


Branded for Destiny

by bethany81707



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: F/F, F/M, Faye's Mental State, Full Game Novelisation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-16 10:50:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 86,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14809946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethany81707/pseuds/bethany81707
Summary: Alm's request to one day leave his hometown of Ram finds itself granted in a way he never suspected, and he comes to a position of great power he neither wanted or is prepared for- but with the kingdom as it is, he has no choice but to take the crown.Some structural changes compared to canon, but the overarching goal remains.





	1. Slayded for Change

Faye sighed, looking down at the book she had borrowed with a tinge of annoyance. The words on the page were unfamiliar to her, and she felt the impatience she got when learning to read again. She heard the sound of Gray running up, and decided to abandon that reading attempt as a bad job.

“Hey, Faye! Have you seen Alm?” Gray asked. Faye sighed.

“No, I haven’t. I just can’t seem to get the hang of this reading thing without him…” Faye remarked.

“You know, Kliff’s reading books so fast, I think he’s going to run out. Why don’t you ask him?” Gray asked.

“Because he’s not… I tried. He wasn’t exactly helpful…” Faye remarked. Gray smirked.

“Tell it like it is…” Kliff moaned. Faye jumped, turning to face the boy.

“I… I mean…” Faye nervously started.

“Look, I know our reading attempts didn’t go so well, but just say you’re using the time to be next to Alm, all right,” Kliff stated, a cool anger underneath his tone.

“Kliff, I…” Faye started.

“Only teasing, little sis. Besides, Alm’s with Celica again. You’ll need all the excuses you can get to get him out of her hands,” Kliff chuckled.

“Again? If Sir Mycen hadn’t stepped in and told Alm he had to play with us as well as Celica, I’m sure we’d never have seen him again!” Gray exclaimed.

“I almost wish he didn’t. I like Celica, but even when we’re around, Alm focuses on her,” Faye snarled.

“True that. But I guess that just means you’re going to have to marry one of us,” Gray laughed.

“Gray, again, I don’t want to be thinking about marriage this young. I’m sick of Mum telling me to find a cute boy, I’m sick of you lot teasing me about Alm, and I’m  _ definitely _ sick of you trying to-” Faye began yelling. Whatever it was Gray did that annoyed Faye, he never found out- Tobin ran towards the group excited enough to yell louder than Faye, interrupting her.

“Guys, you’re never going to believe this! There’s a  _ knight _ outside the village! A real  _ knight _ !” Tobin exclaimed. That got Gray’s attention.

“What’s a knight doing all the way out here?” Kliff asked.

“I don’t care what it is- I might never see a knight in my life. I’m going!” Gray called. He ran the direction Tobin came from, and Tobin went to follow him.

“Do you want to come, milady?” Kliff asked teasingly.

“Boys…” Faye grumbled, but followed Kliff anyway.

* * *

 

Faye tried to make herself seem small, as she found Gray and Tobin conversing with the knight. The man was terrifying- Faye thought he was a Terror that learned how to ride. From the spit in the corner of his mouth, Faye guessed he was about as intelligent.

“Good Sir Knight, um… please excuse me, but our village is a small one- to call it a line of hovels is generosity bordering on sainthood. Your Mightiness is deserving of so much better, so I request that you look elsewhere for your meal…” Gray muttered. Faye looked at Kliff, her eyes wide. She never thought Gray could suck up that much.

“Boy… do you have an older sister?” the knight asked.

“Two. Who wants to know?” Gray asked. That was the Gray Faye knew.

“That’ll suffice. I will take all the food and drink you can muster, and those girls can serve it. Sure, pig feed and horse piss sound awful, but I’m sure I can force it down,” the knight laughed.

“YOU MONSTER!” Faye called, charging from her hiding spot. Her hand pushed into the knight’s horse, sending it bucking. Kliff and Tobin pulled her from the path of the flashing hooves, while Gray looked around in fear.

“You’re a little wench of a girl, you know. I think it’s time I snuffed that out from you. You’ve had your fun,” the knight growled, levelling his lance. He gasped, as a young boy rushed forward, and slammed into the side of the knight, sending him off balance again. Faye smiled, as Alm staggered backwards from the force.

“How many whelps are there in one village?” the knight asked.

“Enough to drive you out of here if you lay a finger on Faye!” Alm called, a small wooden sword drawn.

“Someone forgot to teach the mangy pup some manners… wait a minute…” the knight remarked. His gaze was cast around Alm, at the little girl hiding behind him… Celica…

“By the gods… I’ve found her… I’ve finally found her…” the knight laughed.

“Don’t think I’m letting you have Celica, either!” Alm yelled. He charged forward, as the knight brought down his lance. Alm ducked, and was merely knocked out from the blow. Faye rushed forward, and saw the beginnings of a potentially bloody wound.

“Kliff! Help!” Faye called.

“Save your breath, little girl… it’s not like you’ll live long enough to help,” the knight cackled, raising his lance.

“Watch out, Faye!” a gruff voice ordered. Faye and Kliff pulled Alm away, just in time for Sir Mycen to charge in and clash lances with the knight.

“Sir Mycen… what a surprise…” the knight breathed, fear on his own face.

“How long has it been, Slayde? And you’re still terrified of my strength? At this rate, these kids are going to outstrip your own strength,” Mycen laughed.

“Trust me… I’m just getting started,” Slayde laughed. Mycen gave his own confident noise.

“Children, to the cemetery. Hide among the graves until I return,” Mycen ordered.

“But what about Alm? I don’t want to leave him there!” Faye cried.

“GO!” Mycen ordered. Celica and Kliff rushed to help Faye lift Alm, and Gray and Tobin carved a path before them.

“You’re gonna be OK, Alm… just… hold on…” Faye whispered.

* * *

Faye lay Alm down in a corner, and started pressing a cloth against Alm’s head. Kliff sat beside her, pointing out where best to apply pressure, while Celica stood to one side. Gray and Tobin kept a lookout.

“What’s going to happen…” Celica sobbed.

“Don’t worry, Celica… Sir Mycen will have that knight skewered in no time!” Gray assured her.

“It’s not that… I…” Celica started.

“Celica…” Faye remarked. Celica took in a breath.

“I’ll probably have to go away,” Celica cried. Gray, Tobin and Kliff gasped. Faye held it in, her hand on Alm to keep herself steady.

“You can’t go away…” Gray complained.

“Weren’t you complaining Celica was stealing Alm?” Tobin asked.

“Well, yeah, but… Celica’s one of us! I… Alm wouldn’t want this to happen!” Gray cried out.

“I know, I’m sorry… Faye?” Celica asked. Faye looked up.

“Please… take care of Alm for me, all right?” Celica asked. Faye nodded, and beckoned. Celica leaned forward, hugging Faye, before kneeling next to Alm.

“Goodbye, Alm… I promise that, one day, I’ll come back and find you…” Celica whispered, kissing him on the cheek. She stood back up, and turned- Mycen had arrived behind them.

“Does Celica really have to go?” Gray asked.

“Hm… it seems so. Now that they know Celica is here, I fear they will launch raid after raid… I cannot risk the lives of you and your families for the sake of you remaining together,” Mycen observed.

“Goodbye, Celica…” Kliff stated.

“Yeah, see ya,” Gray added.

“I’ll miss you…” Tobin finished.

“You’re all so sweet, boys… I’ll be thinking of you all wherever I go,” Celica remarked.

“Come, Celica, pack your things… I have an old friend who might be able to keep you safe,” Mycen told her.


	2. Mathilda's Stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally published as a one-shot on FF.net, but I threw it in with this story... mostly because it was in the same folder.

Mathilda looked at her map, the pieces signifying the enemy’s known movements getting slightly confusing as she stared. She knew there was a missing piece, one she felt uncomfortable making a move without knowing… but at the same time, trying to find that piece was likely going to need a move on its own.

“It’s gotta be… the Southern Outpost? Nah, too remote… hm… what do you think, Clive?” Mathilda asked, turning to face Clive. Clive had been staring at her intently, though he appeared to be facing the map.

“Mathilda, I know you will choose the right path,” Clive remarked.

“Clive, it’s cute and all that the woman is going out and kicking names while the man stays home, but I think I’d prefer a husband with a little bit more spine,” Mathilda snarked, turning back to the map and moving the pieces around thoughtfully. Clive, shaken, started doing the same, but his movements were not based on the known movements of the enemy armies.

“...Clive, could you please stop that?” Mathilda found herself asking. Clive jumped away, nervously eyeing the board now.

“Milady Mathilda, if I may…” Fernand spoke up. Mathilda jumped, having forgotten he was here, and watched as he traced out a plan of his own.

“...I see. But what do we stand to gain?” Mathilda asked in response. Clive, having not quite understood Fernand’s plan, left the two to their tactics, and made to move out on his own.

“See you later, Clive. Remember not to stray too far from the hideout!” Mathilda told him. Clive nodded, and left the room.

* * *

 

Clive left the hideout, and made for a nearby lake. He always felt calmest near water… he was hoping that that was enough. He wasn’t a leader- that much was obvious. He wasn’t very good at thinking strategically… so what  _ could _ he do to help Mathilda? He knew he was skilled with a lance. Not as adept as Mathilda herself, maybe, but since he wasn’t worried about the overall field, he could focus on the battlefield. Maybe he’d make a fine bodyguard.

_ Snap _

Clive’s head whipped around. He heard a gentle breathing, trying to match the wind but falling slightly out of step. Someone must’ve followed him. Probably Clair- the girl’s devotion to him was impressive. Possibly as great as his own devotion to Mathilda. Clive felt like he should have gotten an idea from that… but he didn’t. Clair’s contributions to the army were possibly the only noble’s that he could say were less than his own, and even then he didn’t have a lot of confidence in that. Clair’s pegasus certainly pulled more weight than he did, even if the rider was an unknown quantity. He heard a rustling behind him, but paid it no mind. He knew he had a mystery to unlock, and if it took him all night, he was going to make himself useful to Mathilda.

“Who the devil are you?” a tough voice asked. Clive looked up, and noticed Slayde and a few Rigelians. He gasped, and leaped to return to the hideout. He sunk to the ground in pain, and turned. An arrow had emerged from his leg.

“Darn you…” Clive muttered, as the Rigelians slithered forward with purpose. Before he could manage to try and rise, they had his hands bound with rope- and mercifully, his leg bound with a bandage.

“Marvelous work. You would be Sir Clive, husband of Lady Mathilda of the Deliverance, correct?” Slayde asked, eyeing him. Clive growled.

“You will address me as Sir Clive of the Deliverance. I am no mere husband,” Clive growled. Slayde let out a mocking laugh. To his disappointment, the Rigelians did not.

“You are no knight of the Deliverance, Clive. In fact, you are going to tell me where your friends are holed up. And don’t think we won’t find out… we can’t be far, can we?” Slayde asked. Clive looked around, and noticed that there were Rigelians missing.

“...As if you can make me talk,” Clive growled.

“Well, I certainly seem to be doing a lot of that. I’m more concerned with making you say the words I want you to say. Now… where is your secret base?” Slayde asked, bringing his face to Clive’s.

“Slayde. I’ve good news,” a dull voice called. Slayde looked up, and his eyes shone with excitement. He turned Clive’s head around, and Clive knew the game was up.

A dainty leather shoe was in the Rigelian’s hand. And from the look on his face, he found it outside the hideout.

* * *

 

“We’ve gotta run,” Clair told Mathilda. The militia men of the Deliverance, few in number as they may have been, were still crowded outside the door. Clair had made sure to warn them, and to tell them to get their friends.

“Very well… men. Find anything important and either pack it or destroy it. You have two minutes,” Mathilda told them.

“And that’s a generous estimate,” Clair followed. The men nodded, and started zipping around the room. The men knew better than to go to any room that required a visit to the foyer. Fortunately, the only things in such rooms were personal in nature, rather than important to the stakes of the Deliverance.

“Clair… what happened to your shoe?” Mathilda asked. Clair looked down, and winced.

“I must’ve lost it…” Clair muttered. A branch snapped, loud enough for everyone to hear. Mathilda gasped, and pointed to an escape tunnel.

“GO! NOW!” Mathilda boomed. Everyone filed in, with Lukas and Forsyth counting heads as they passed. Forsyth followed the last of the rank and file, while Lukas waited on Clair and Mathilda.

“Go, Clair,” Mathilda told her.

“I’m not leaving my brother,” Clair told her.

“I promise you I’ll get him back. Go! I don’t want to see you hurt!” Mathilda told her. Lukas grabbed her, and ran into the passageway. Mathilda took her lance, and waited for the enemy faction. Her breaths were laboured, her eyes darting towards the passage every now and then. Were they safe? Or was the secret exit compromised? Mathilda’s mind was still drifting towards the idea of a trussed up Clair to the extent that, when Slayde burst into the room, she thought she saw her in his grasp. Mathilda was almost relieved to see Clive instead.

“Mathilda… perfect,” Slayde remarked. The Rigelians entered the room, the archer readying his bow. Mathilda held her lance firmly, knowing the outcome. She was too valuable to be let go. She looked at Clive, knowing in her heart that it was him that brought Slayde here… even though it was unintentional, his imprisonment would be penance. Mathilda took in a breath.

“Let Clive go, and I’ll come quietly,” Mathilda growled. Slayde chuckled.

“Now why would I go and do that?” Slayde asked. Mathilda took in a breath and bit back tears. She was sure Clive was going to remember this until his dying day.

“He’s harmless. The Deliverance will beat him if you try to force him to fight,  _ I’ll _ beat  _ you _ if you try the opposite. He does nothing for the Deliverance’s upkeep. Hell, without me, the Deliverance might even be  _ worse _ off with him. They’ll have no leader. But more importantly, if you don’t let him go, I’m going to kill one of you before that archer hits me. Possibly more, if I’m lucky. And I’m sure you’re well aware that you could be one of those people, Slayde,” Mathilda coolly stated. Clive’s face betrayed not hurt, but shame. Even if her words were true, she would rather not have said them… but Mathilda wanted Clive free. For Clair.

“...Very well, Mathilda,” Slayde remarked, and the Rigelians loosened their grip on Clive. Mathilda dropped her lance, and allowed the Rigelians to bind her. Clive stepped away, and allowed Slayde to walk away with his prize.

“Goodbye, Clive. Know that your wife abandoned you here… may you rot,” Slayde chuckled. Clive grunted, but Mathilda made no sound. The Rigelians looked at her worriedly, and she let out a horrified scream, to their satisfaction. Clive kept a solid eye on them before he began edging towards the secret passage. Clair left it, and untied him.

“Come on,” Clair muttered, pushing him into the passage before one of the Rigelians doubled back. Lukas helped him along, while Clair paused at the exit. She took in a breath, before steeling herself. Mathilda was gone… but she was going to try her hardest to take her place as the Deliverance’s morale keystone, at the least. She was ready to admit she was nowhere near a seamless replacement, but the Deliverance was going to have to make do.

As it was, Mathilda’s loss was going to devastate everything.

* * *

 

The Deliverance waited with bated breath as Lukas and Clive left the mouth of the exit. They started peering behind them, looking for Mathilda to come by, her appearance still beautiful even with the dishevelled marks of battle, with words of encouragement. Clair appeared from the hole, and started jumping on the sides, sending a few rocks cascading down. Lukas caught on, and got to work loosening some bigger stones to seal the passage. When everyone else caught on, they realised their hopes were dashed.

“Mathilda is captured, and it’s all my fault,” Clive told them. Clair scoffed.

“You mustn’t blame yourself, Clive. I was the one who lost my shoe,” Clair told him, stepping forward. Clive stepped away.

“I was the one who got them looking… I was the one who made Mathilda give herself up…” Clive told them. Everyone gasped, and recoiled. Even Clair gave pause.

“...Mathilda gave herself up because she loved you, Clive,” Clair told him, holding out her hand. Clive turned away.

“I’m not worthy of that kind of sacrifice. She said as much herself. I’m… I’m only going to slow us down,” Clive remarked. Clair looked at Lukas worriedly.

“Can you lie to him and say he won’t?” Clair whispered. Lukas looked worriedly at Clive, but Fernand approached first. Lukas nodded, and turned back to Clair.

“We’ll need a strong hero to tie this army back together,” Lukas observed. Clair looked around, noticing the worry Mathilda’s capture had brought them.

“How are we to be so lucky to find one of those?” Clair asked.

* * *

 

Mathilda was brought towards a throne shrouded in darkness. She could see the legs of Desaix and a black-clad knight, but little else- especially when being thrown forward forced her head facing down.

“Well well well… if it isn’t the valiant defender of the Deliverance, Lady Mathilda. Come to beg for mercy?” Desaix asked. Mathilda looked up, mustering as much malice as she could.

“You know I will do no such thing, Desaix. The Deliverance will not die today. Cli-Clair will lead them to glory, and I will be freed. And when that day comes, you will know the pain you will put me through,” Mathilda growled.

“I always love talking with you, Mathilda. You give such colourful threats. But I’m afraid you happen to be wrong this time. Berkut,” Desaix barked. Berkut stepped forward, looking down on Mathilda with disdain.

“Slayde tells me General Mycen still lives in the village of Ram. The Deliverance would do well with a man like him, wouldn’t they?” Desaix asked. Berkut looked down at Mathilda.

“Wouldn’t they just… that’s why I’m going to kill him, girl,” Berkut told her. Mathilda smirked.

“Do you honestly think Mycen is going to be the one to bring out Clair’s inner potential? A man meets his destiny on the path he sought to avoid it. You will make more enemies than you quash, Berkut,” Mathilda told him. Berkut smirked.

“I am not particularly concerned about making enemies of crying children,” Berkut told her, standing and leaving Mathilda with Desaix.

“Well, Mathilda, it’s been fun, but I think it’s time you began your torture,” Desaix growled, and the Rigelians picked her up.

“You’re not going to do it yourself?” Mathilda asked.

“I have to deal with the rest of your friends. I’ll enjoy torturing you and Clair later,” Desaix told them, grinning as Mathilda gave her first solid, genuine thrash. He was looking forward to her face when he threw Clair beside her, beaten physically and emotionally by her loss to his superior army...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those who read the story back when it was on FF.net might recall one of Berkut's lines being different. I couldn't reconcile the original line ("Then I shall simply have to be thorough") with the actions he takes in the story proper, so I modified this line despite it already being published.
> 
> This is why I don't typically like to have parts of stories published until I'm done writing the story.


	3. Black-Hearted Knight

Alm lunged forward, the momentum of his strike coursing through him, sending him forward with quite a bit of force. Sir Mycen easily blocked and parried the stroke, though, sending Alm slightly off balance. Mycen’s follow-up strike came from the left, and Alm quickly shuffled his feet to brace and block the blow. He waved his sword, sending Mycen’s point away. Alm spun around, and brought the sword around to Mycen’s neck. Mycen managed to bring his sword up to block it, and stepped back, nodding.

“It’s not often one recovers from such a mistake… impressive,” Mycen remarked. Alm smirked. He had hoped Mycen thought it was intentional.

“Thanks, grandfather… am I ready to leave the village?” Alm asked. Mycen let out an annoyed ‘tsk’.

“No, Alm, you are not,” Mycen told him.

“But grandfather… you allow Faye out of the village, and she’s the worst out of the other kids with a sword!” Alm claimed, somewhat childishly.

“Faye is also not my responsibility. But it is not for lack of faith in your sword that I hesitate to allow you freedom. The true reason is one in which I cannot confide in you at this moment, for circumstance is not ready for you to know it,” Mycen told him. Alm groaned. Mycen had already told him this much word for word on multiple occasions.

“Grandfather… Zofia is in danger. Droughts have turned our people to thievery and plunder. Rigelian bastards frolic in our country in breach of the Divine Accord, and Terrors terrorise the lands. Don’t you think I should be out there, fighting that?” Alm asked.

“Alm, that is reckless and selfish of you. One man is not going to make a difference big enough to be notable before he finds himself at the wrong end of a brigand’s axe. Once you learn that, you will understand what it is you need to do,” Mycen told him.

“But grandfather…” Alm started.

“No buts. No more talk of leaving. Now go- Faye is here,” Mycen told him, turning to sit down on an old chair outside the house. He pulled out a scroll of some sort, and began reading.

“Hey, Alm. Are you done?” Faye asked.

“I don’t know. Every day, it’s train, train, train, and Mycen’s not telling me if I’m getting better. He still won’t let me leave. It’s not fair… I’m destined for greater than this,” Alm moaned.

“And even if he never lets you leave, you’ll still be a great husband. But I do understand your fear… there is something you should see. A knight came by- and this one hasn’t threatened to cut my head off yet,” Faye told him. That caught Alm’s attention.

“That’ll cheer me up, I suppose. But I still want you on your guard- I can’t lose you like I lost Celica,” Alm stated. Faye nodded encouragingly, his remark making no sense to her.

* * *

 

Faye led Alm to the village entrance, where a man with a soothing voice was talking to Gray, Tobin and Kliff. His armour made him appear a militiaman, but he seemed confident enough to be a noble. Alm wasn’t quite sure which he was looking at.

“Lukas! Alm’s here,” Faye called. Lukas’s eyes lit up, and he turned to him.

“Hello, Alm. You are Sir Mycen’s grandson, correct?” Lukas asked. Alm nodded.

“Who are you?” Alm asked.

“My name is Lukas, noble of Hog. I am a knight of the Deliverance,” Lukas announced.

“The Deliverance? Is this some sort of mail service?” Alm asked.

“Not at all. The Deliverance is a rebel army, fighting against Chancellor Desaix after his murder of King Lima IV. Why, I cannot say- perhaps Rigel promised him lands, or a title. Nonetheless, Desaix and Rigelians collude to exercise great injustices over the people of Zofia, and our leader, Mathilda, would have none of that. She organised the Deliverance, a powerful force that intends to reclaim our land. However… we are outmatched. Just before I left on this mission, Mathilda herself was captured, a heavy blow to both our firepower and morale. Her fiance, Sir Clive, leads the Deliverance in her place, but… We need a hero, and we believe Sir Mycen is that hero,” Lukas explained.

“I see… perhaps my grandfather will speak with you,” Alm remarked.

“I should hope so, for otherwise this journey will be in vain. Please excuse me,” Lukas stated, moving past Alm.

“Poor Sir Clive… I can’t imagine having your lover kidnapped,” Faye remarked.

“Faye, you tell me about your fantasy of Alm rescuing you at least twice a month,” Kliff told her.

“Yeah, but obviously  _ Alm _ would be the one in turmoil. And Clive doesn’t sound like he’ll be doing any swashbuckling if his response is to run to Sir Mycen,” Faye countered.

“Faye, we get it, you’re a romantic. But face facts- Desaix’s men must be powerful if they captured the Deliverance’s leader. Do you expect someone with even  _ less _ skill to succeed where Mathilda failed?” Tobin asked.

“...No, but…” Faye started.

“Face it, Faye, the outside world isn't as romantic as it is in your imagination,” Gray told her.

“Hmph. Alm, you’d totally come to my rescue if I was captured, right?” Faye asked, turning to him.

“Huh? Sorry, wasn’t paying attention,” Alm stated. Faye rolled her eyes.

“She was asking if you’d come to her rescue like a dashing knight,” Kliff told him.

“Well… I’m not sure how dashing it would be, but let’s say you better not be in my way…” Alm told him. Faye lunged forward and threw her arms around Alm.

“Thank you, Alm…” Faye muttered.

“You cared for me for all this time…” Alm told her, stroking her hair.

“I dunno… I’d think I’d be creeped out, honestly,” Tobin told him. Alm looked up at him.

“Tobin, Faye is important to me. I don’t care how odd she is- there’s no replacing her,” Alm told him in no uncertain terms. As he said such, Lukas returned from Mycen’s house.

“What did he say?” Gray asked.

“...He refused. But I did not come here to be swayed so easily. I shall give him a day to reconsider. After that… I cannot bear to imagine what might happen,” Lukas told them.

* * *

 

“Grandfather! You’re not joining the Deliverance?” Alm asked. Mycen looked up at him, what seemed to be fury brimming from his moustache.

“Go to war with the Rigelians? I won’t allow it. War only brings sorrow,” Mycen remarked.

“But Grandfather, General Desaix threatens us all! We can’t stay here under his rule forever- we have to stop him!” Alm proclaimed.

“No buts, Alm. There’s nothing here the Deliverance will find useful…” Mycen told him. Alm reached for his sword.

“You? You think you will aid the Deliverance?” Mycen asked.

“Me and my friends. It won’t be me alone. We’ll fight and we’ll take back Zofia and Lady Mathilda…” Alm told him.

“Pah. You haven’t learned a thing. You could best all four of your precious friends with the sword. Dragging them with you is only going to cause hardship… no, no more talk of leaving, Alm,” Mycen stated. Alm turned, taking the sword. Mycen looked up.

“Lukas won’t be leaving until tomorrow… what do you think you’ll accomplish today?” Mycen asked.

“It’s die out there or wait to die here…” Alm told him, going for a walk.

“And I’m not going to die like Celica did…” Alm muttered.

* * *

 

Alm was lost in thoughts as he walked. Not for the first time, he remembered the looks of fear on Celica and Faye’s faces when that knight attacked them. Celica died… it just bothered him so much that she died while there was nothing he could do about it. Just thinking about that day always got him upset… but Faye had told him that Celica’s last wish was for her to look after him. The thought rankled, but knowing Celica was thinking about him with her dying breath made it all worthwhile.

“Celica…” Alm muttered to himself. He liked Faye, yes, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of emptiness with regards to Celica. He knew that, if he tried to confide in Faye, he’d just get told ‘Oh, you just miss her…’, which wasn’t very good at comforting him.

Alm sniffed at the air. Smoke. He was about to pass it off, but he wondered why smoke was in the air- most house fires were contained such they wouldn’t be smelled this far from the village. Alm turned back, and saw massive pillars of black smoke. He rushed to the village as fast as possible. As he approached, he saw Tobin leading one of his sisters away.

“Hey, Alm…” Tobin muttered, and Alm turned to him.

“What happened?” Alm asked.

“This knight came… and he’s looking for Mycen…” Tobin told him.

“ALM! HELP!” Faye cried out.

“Oh no… not Faye!” Alm exclaimed, a note of fear in his voice.

“Alm, you can’t go in there… the knight’ll kill you!” Tobin cried.

“And I’m not letting that happen to Faye,” Alm stated simply, barrelling into the village.

“Alm…” Tobin muttered.

“Will Alm be OK?” his sister asked. Tobin gave her a pat on the back.

“Of course he will…” Tobin muttered.

* * *

 

“ALM!” Faye called again. The smoke of the flames nearest her was getting to her, and she was feeling too exhausted to move. She knew she had to get away, but every inch she crawled seem to take an immense effort. She heard the steps of a horse.

“Go… away…” Faye muttered, coughing.

“Not unless you tell me where I might find Mycen,” the knight ordered. Faye cried softly- she could barely muster up the courage to speak.

“No answer?” the knight asked, raising his lance.

“You know, next time I go into reclusion, I might actually announce it. Perhaps then less people will start looking for me,” Mycen remarked. The knight looked up.

“General Mycen. At last… I will prove my strength to Emperor Rudolf,” the knight proclaimed.

“And to that end, you raze a village? You don’t know the meaning of knighthood…” Mycen told him. He lunged forward with his horse, but he did not have his lance with him. The knight needed simply brandish his lance and the famed hero fell in his saddle.

“Pathetic. What sort of knight goes without his weapon?” the knight laughed.

“NO!” a young, fresh voice exclaimed. The knight turned, and saw Alm, one arm over his mouth and the other holding his sword.

“You must be Alm, correct? Grandson of this fool?” the knight asked. Alm nodded.

“...Good. Train. Show you have the strength to be considered worthy of your existence. And when your strength matches that of Mycen in his heyday, look for Berkut. I will prove that I am superior to that man’s strength. Until then… it’s my word against yours that this was a fight to remember. Now take your pathetic little girlfriend and leave my sight,” the knight ordered, turning and leaving. Alm glared after him, sheathing his sword as he scooped up Faye.

“Alm…” Faye muttered.

“I know… but we’ll talk about that later…” Alm muttered to her.  _ Not Grandfather, too… _

* * *

 

Alm escaped the village, setting Faye down before slumping beside her. He was far from out for the count- he just needed some time to rest. His last words to Mycen… all of a sudden, it felt so much more selfish, to pursue the Deliverance. Alm felt tears at the corners of his eyes, and he refused to clear them. Thoughts about that knight came to the forefront… Berkut, his name was. The man who would raze a village to prove his point… the man who judged another based on his readiness and strength in combat… a Rigelian, through and through.

“Alm…” Faye’s voice began to pierce his thoughts. Alm turned to Faye, who was coughing, but looked fine otherwise. A bit shaken, but nothing serious.

“Alm… is Sir Mycen…” Faye muttered.

“Yes… it seems so. Berkut…” Alm started.

“Berkut is a coward,” Faye spat out. Alm turned to her, wide-eyed.

“Alm, you’re going to get stronger, aren’t you? You’re going to get Berkut back for this?” Faye asked. Alm looked back at the village.

“Someone’s got to,” Alm told her. Faye looked at her hands, waving them uncertainly. She had been trying to learn magic with Kliff, to no success.

“I’ll be there for you, Alm…” Faye told him, her voice starting to crack.

“Alm! Faye!” Kliff exclaimed. The pair looked up, and saw the three boys gather around them. Kliff scooped Faye up, while Alm sat upright of his own accord.

“The knight who started this killed my grandfather…” Alm told them. Gray turned towards the village.

“He killed my sisters, too…” Gray remarked.

“Don’t know if my grandmother made it out, either…” Tobin observed.

“My parents were right at the centre of the blaze when it started. I’m… gonna confess some of it was my fault,” Kliff told them.

“How is it your fault? Last time you summoned flames, you only left a small scorch,” Alm asked.

“The knight… Berkut, was it? He was threatening my family looking for Sir Mycen. I… may have shot a particularly strong fireball trying to get him to go away,” Kliff told him.

“Then that’s not your fault,” Alm told him.

“YEAH!” Faye echoed, nothing to add.

“Berkut was the one who made those flames as big as they were, and he personally killed most of the people who died, anyway,” Gray told him. Tobin looked at the village.

“...And if I let one of my best friends go because of something he didn’t intend, well, I’d run out of friends pretty quick,” Tobin assured him. Kliff smiled, and noticed Lukas approach.

“Alm… words cannot express my reactions to this blaze,” Lukas remarked.

“Lukas… Mycen’s gone,” Alm told him. Lukas nodded.

“I heard. A tragedy with tragedies atop it. I must return to Clive and inform him of the ill news…” Lukas told him despondently.

“And we’ll go with you,” Alm stated firmly, to the surprise of his friends.

“Are you serious, Alm?” Gray asked.

“I can’t abandon my family!” Tobin exclaimed. Alm looked at Faye and Kliff, who shrugged.

“As good a reason to see the world as any. And hey, as it turns out, I could probably turn Desaix into a mean barbecue,” Kliff joked.

“And if you think I’m letting you out of my sight, you’ve got another thing coming! I promised Celica I’d keep you safe, and if your reaction to your hometown burning to ruin is to go on some suicide mission, you definitely need a combat nanny. No offence, Lukas,” Faye yelled. Lukas chuckled.

“None taken, lass. Without Lady Mathilda, I fear we are facing odds bordering on suicidal,” Lukas assured her. Gray looked between the three.

“...Ah, sod it. I’m not about bright reasoning, and I’m certainly not thinking well of knights. Sign me up for the revolution,” Gray told him.

“But we’re not a… who am I kidding, we can’t be that picky. The Deliverance welcomes you,” Lukas told him. He turned to Tobin expectantly.

“...Are you insane? Someone needs to provide for my family!” Tobin exclaimed.

“We do offer wages, if that might change your mind,” Lukas suggested.

“You do? ...I guess that helps. I’ll go. It’s not really right if the five of us get separated,” Tobin confirmed.

“Eyy, buddy!” Gray exclaimed, pulling him in for a hug. Tobin chuckled, batting him away.

“It’s getting dark, and I’m sure your families will be worried sick. We leave in the morning,” Lukas told them. The boys left, leaving Alm and Faye- the latter of whom was worried about the former.

“Grandfather…” Alm muttered.

“Alm… you can stay with my family tonight…” Faye told him. Alm nodded.

“Oh… I’m sorry, Alm. I didn’t realise Mycen was your  _ only _ family,” Lukas observed.

“It’s OK, it’s only right those three find their families… well, Gray and Tobin. I’m not sure where Kliff’s going,” Alm stated.

* * *

 

The next morning, Alm awoke to find Faye snuggled in the same blanket. He was sure that wasn’t the case when he went to bed, but he brushed the matter aside and headed into the village’s ruins. Finding Kliff’s old house, he knelt down before the garden Kliff’s mother had planted around the time Celica died- he kind of suspected it wasn’t Celica’s grave, but no one ever stopped him acting like it was.

“Celica… I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’ll ever be coming back here…” Alm told her. He looked wistfully at the planted flowers, or at least what wasn’t reduced to ash. He would really have rathered leaving Celica’s grave more beautiful than this, but he guessed it couldn’t be helped.

“Celica… I want you to know that I’ll always be thinking of you. I wish it didn’t have to be like this… but I’m sure that, if you’re watching over me, you’ll be able to forgive me for this. Then again, you did tell Faye to look after me…” Alm continued.

“A job I’m honestly impressed she continues to doggedly perform. I don’t know how she keeps it up,” Kliff mused, walking up behind him.

“Oh, hey, Kliff. Where did you go?” Alm asked.

“My hideaway. I needed a breather. But now I’m ready to fight in the name of the Deliverance… I can’t let scum like Desaix tear families apart like Berkut tore apart mine,” Kliff told him.

“Thank you, Kliff…” Alm remarked. He shed one final tear over Celica, before following Kliff back to the rest of the group, ready to start their adventure.


	4. Turn of Fate

Lukas led the party across the rough lands outside Ram. Alm, for whom this trip was largely unfamiliar, was looking around in awe, while the rest of the kids were less confident in themselves. Berkut razing their village had awoken them to just what they were facing, and they weren’t entirely pleased about it. Lukas called a halt in their advance, and almost instinctively, everyone quieted even their breathing.

“Har har har! Didja get a look at the wench we captured this morning?” a raspy voice asked.

“Sure did, Billy! That mercenary defending her talked big, but there’s no way he could hold himself against  _ us _ ! Now that girlie is all ours!” another voice responded.

“You mean Jesse? You call that talking big? If I didn’t already know about him, I’d have thought he was just a village runt!” what sounded like Billy laughed.

“Anyway, once the boss has his fill, I hear I’ll be the first to get my hands on her… I’m trembling with anticipation!” another bandit gloated, to raucous groans.

“...That poor…” Alm found himself muttering. Lukas turned to him thoughtfully.

“You know you can’t attack the brigand’s camp with nothing more than yourself, myself, and four untrained villagers, right?” Lukas asked. Alm nodded, looking at the others.

“Wise choice. I don’t see what we stand to gain other than more misery for Sir Clive,” Tobin remarked.

“Tobin… think about this, will you? I know it’s hard, but try. There is a  _ GIRL _ in danger. And if we save a  _ GIRL _ … you follow?” Gray asked. Everyone blinked at him.

“That’s… not how it works,” Faye told him.

“Weren’t you the one romanticising Alm coming your rescue, and Clive coming to Mathilda’s?” Gray asked.

“Well… yeah, but-” Faye began to rebut, but Gray interrupted her.

“See? We speak the same language!” Gray claimed. Faye rolled her eyes and huffed.

“What are you thinking, Kliff?” Alm asked. Kliff jumped, looking around.

“I’m thinking of whether or not I could produce a big enough fireball to burn those unwashed rogues to death,” Kliff stated quickly. Faye looked at him in surprise, while Alm turned to Lukas.

“What are our odds?” Alm asked.

“If we set the area on fire, less than you’d expect. If we approach with caution… it just might work,” Lukas suggested. Alm nodded.

“Then we give it a shot. Onwards!” Alm called. He, Gray and Kliff began their approach.

“...Faye, you say you take care of this boy?” Lukas asked.

“It’s poor, thankless work, but I’m hoping I’ll eventually get Alm to kiss me at the least,” Faye told him.

“Yeah, don’t think being his mother hen is the way to go about getting one of those…” Tobin snarked. Faye chose to ignore him, as the three hurried after Alm.

* * *

 

Alm and Gray charged forward, their swords brandished. Kliff remained slightly behind, blasting a few choice bandits with his fire while letting Alm and Gray handle closer ones. One of the bandits slipped out of sight, approaching Alm from his weaker flank. Faye caught the bandit’s eye, and brought her sword down on him. The bandit caught it in his axe.

“Nwe he he, girlie… looks like you’re not saving your boyfriend this time!” the bandit taunted, quickly brushing Faye’s sword aside and whacking Faye with the shaft of the axe. Faye began to stumble, waving her arms madly. Looking forward at the bandit fiercely, she stepped forward, falling on her face in that direction. She heard a yell, and the bandit followed suit. She quickly got to her feet, noticing the bandit struggling, and held out her hands. A pink flash appeared before her, and the bandit stopped his struggling.

“...Was that magic?” Faye asked herself, looking around. No one seemed concerned, so she shrugged and tried again, aiming at a nearby bandit. The pink flash was duller than she remembered the first being, and the bandit certainly didn’t notice. Faye shrugged it off, and checked for her sword.

* * *

 

While Faye was distracted by one bandit, another three had managed to surround Alm, with a pair dealing with Gray- who was doing fine for said situation.

“Well… looks like somebody’s way too confident…” one bandit taunted.

“I think it’s time we show this kid his place…” another added. As they stepped forward, Alm noticed Kliff distract them briefly with a fireball to one’s pants- but Alm was grabbed by the other two before he could dart away.

“Alm!” Faye called. Alm looked up, and saw Faye run up to the bandits.

“Faye, no!” Alm yelled in response. A bandit currently unoccupied grabbed Faye by the sword-arm’s wrist, allowing a quick disarm.

“Well well…  _ two _ girlies in one day…” the bandit laughed.

“You brute!” a female voice called. Before the bandit holding Faye could laugh tauntingly, he found a javelin in his chest. Alm looked up, seeing a pegasus knight soaring above them. With a few more well-aimed javelins, the bandits threatening Alm and Gray died, and the remaining forces rushed into the woods, to a probable hideout. Lukas, Kliff and Tobin approached, as the pegasus knight gently landed before them and dismounted. She was a rather tall woman, about a head taller than Alm, with a simple tunic and flowing blonde hair.

“Ah, Lady Clair. What brings you here? Not more ill tidings, I hope?” Lukas asked.

“Heavens, no. We just heard Berkut was in the area and I was sent to check on you. So is this Sir Mycen? My word, he’s younger than I thought…” Clair remarked, leaning forward into Alm’s face.

“Lady Clair, that is actually Mycen’s grandson. Sir Mycen was… killed by Berkut,” Lukas told her. Clair let out a gasp.

“Oh, you poor thing…” Clair muttered, giving Alm a rather tight hug. Alm started gasping for air while the villagers started to gain jealous feelings.

“Lady Clair?” Lukas asked. Clair jumped back, to see Alm start breathing heavily.

“Oh my… I’m so dreadfully sorry!” Clair exclaimed.

“Don’t worry about it… just don’t… don’t do it again…” Alm heaved.

“And who are these four?” Clair asked, turning away from Alm to the others. Gray swaggered forward, and put on his best grin.

“I’m in love with you,” Gray told her. Clair raised an eyebrow.

“Well, ‘In love with you’, I am Clair. The peasant will address me as ‘Lady Clair’ or ‘milady’, thank you very much,” Clair told him.

“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel…” Gray muttered.

“Lady Clair, these are children trained by Sir Mycen, who have bonds of friendship to the grandson, Alm,” Lukas explained.

“I’m Tobin. This dunderhead is Gray. The boy at the back there is Kliff. And the girl is Faye,” Tobin added. Clair smiled at the three that weren’t Gray, her eyes lingering on Faye. Faye tried to compose an expression that looked less like she wanted her dead. Clair gave a nervous smile, and turned back to Lukas.

“Well, it’s no Sir Mycen, but since he’s dead…” Clair remarked.

“As I thought, Lady Clair. Anyway, these bandits appear to have kidnapped a poor girl, so I think it best we go do something about that before we formally introduce you,” Lukas told her.

“Bandits kidnapping girls? How dreadfully dull. Do the poor things know how to do anything other than rape, pillage and burn?” Clair asked.

“They can swing axes, too. But I honestly think that that’s plenty dangerous,” Lukas remarked.

“Less talk, let’s go!” Gray called, rushing ahead. Alm preferred to wait for everyone else to move forward, which they did quickly.

* * *

 

The group entered the hideout, an abandoned shrine to the Earth Mother, with nothing more than a scared watchman blocking that route. The dank smell of mold permeated through the twisted caverns, masking the equally putrid fumes of the brigands who inhabited it. Alm wondered how a once welcoming place of worship became such a hellhole of depravity. Everyone else was focused on Gray and the captives the brigands had mentioned. A girl and a mercenary, if the latter was still alive.

“Gray’s sword…” Tobin remarked, scooping up the iron blade. Lukas looked around for the signs of the scuffle.

“Well, that’s one down, four to go,” Kliff joked. Faye shot him a glare, and he quailed.

“...Sorry, Faye,” Kliff told her. Faye looked back at the sword, thinking about its implications, too.

“Oy! Ya hear that?” a brigand called. Clair brought her hand to her mouth, as a bandit’s head stuck out from the passage ahead.

“Blimey…” the brigand muttered. A few more peeked out, and Tobin gasped. Tossing the blade to Alm, he pulled out his old hunting bow, and fired a few shots. A couple missed, but the brigands that were planning on approaching found themselves with an arrow sticking out of their bodies. Two dropped to the ground, while the remainder retreated in fear.

“Never count Tobin out. Now come on, we’ve got to find Gray!” Tobin said. Everyone nodded, and strode forward with purpose.

* * *

 

Tobin led the group into the passage, to see a terrifying sight. Gray was in the middle of a ring of bandits, several puffy wounds already. Alm looked away, and spotted the cleric to one side, bound and gagged rather lightly. He pointed this out to Clair, who reciprocated by pointing out the mercenary on the other side, in a similar situation. Faye quickly dipped into the shadows, edging her way around to the cleric.

“Gray!” Tobin exclaimed, drawing the bandit’s attention.

“Huh? What are you scrawny little rats after? Men! Kill them and be creative about it!” the bandit boss ordered. He began edging his way back for a retreat, Tobin firing an arrow after him. The arrow missed its mark, and Lukas hurriedly jumped in front of Tobin, his lance deflecting three axes before Tobin could ready himself for close-quarter combat. Kliff started slinging spells over Lukas’s head, the flames frequently dissipating before they could take effect.

“Stop! Or I behead this street rat!” a bandit ordered. Clair tossed a javelin, striking him down. Gray began furiously blushing, as Clair barrelled through charging forces to get him evacuated. A few bandits turned, and noticed Faye next to the cleric.

“Faye! Forget about me! Take the Earth Mother’s blessing!” she ordered. Faye jumped away from her, approaching the statue of Mila in the room. She felt the energies of the Earth Mother flow into her soul, as the nature of a higher calling beckoned. The bandits approached, several with drool in the corner of their mouths. Faye rolled her eyes, and held her hands up. The pink magic she found herself using against Slayde and against the other brigands shot forward, more powerful that she had previously experienced. A bandit whacked her with his axe. Faye shot the pink energy into him, absorbing his vitality to form part of her own, the axe wound fading from her body and appearing on his.

“It… it can’t be…” a brigand muttered, nervously stepping forward. Faye launched the spell at him, knocking him out.

“It is,” Faye told him. The bandit leader stepped forward, a wicked-looking axe in one hand, a bottle of wine in the other. He gave her an evil smile, which she responded with an angelic one.

“DIE, WITCH!” the bandit screamed.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, Alm,” Faye stated simply, spinning on the spot, and holding out her hand. The pink light let out an audible crash as it struck the bandit, making him drop to the ground and sending his axe tumbling towards her, the bottle of wine smashing on the floor. Faye giggled.

“I think I could get used to being the strong one,” she remarked. She looked up, and noticed Alm had pulled the cleric to her feet. She strode towards the pair.

“Thank you, Lady Faye, for your efforts in releasing me. I am Silque, from a priory on Novis,” the cleric introduced herself as.

“So, Silque… what brings you here?” Alm asked.

“My mission was to go to Ram Village and find a man called Sir Mycen,” Silque stated.

“Everyone was looking for that guy… sorry, but he’s dead,” Alm remarked.

“I… I’m sorry… I must say, though, that it was not actually Sir Mycen who was my destination, but his grandson,” Silque stated.

“That’s me. Good thing we didn’t actually send you to Ram, then!” Alm laughed. Silque lunged forward, and took Alm’s left hand, finding his birthmark.

“...Very fortunate, then. I was told to give you this… Mila’s Turnwheel,” Silque stated. Alm took the Turnwheel, and inspected it.

“What does it do?” Alm asked. As he did so, it began to glow, the face spinning around. Silque gasped, as Alm found himself seeing a vision. He held Faye in his arms as she slowly died, her face turning to Celica’s as he started a sob. The vision changed to show two decaying draconic shapes duelling each over beside a swamp. The entire episode ended with what Alm thought was an older Celica crying his name.

“What was that?” Alm asked. Faye and Silque shrugged- neither had seen it.

“Mila is said to possess the power of foresight. Perhaps what you saw was a vision of the future…” Silque suggested. Alm blanched.

“Or  _ maybe _ it’s a warning, of what will happen if you don’t do the job Mila has appointed you to,” Faye suggested in a tone that told Silque she was being insensitive. Alm found Faye’s remarks insensitive as well, but as always, failed to muster the heart to tell her. The right spirit was there.

“Hey, Silque… are you all right?” the mercenary asked. Silque gave a gentle smile.

“I should be fine now, Jesse. Thank you for your services... I will be joining with this group,” Silque told him.

“...Are you sure, Silque? I mean, we’re going to be charging Desaix. Don’t think that’s the safest thing to be in the middle of…” Alm pointed out.

“...I should hope you don’t mean that’s the actual battle plan you’re advocating, Alm?” Lukas asked.

“Why not? It worked here,” Alm pointed out. Silque’s eyes narrowed.

“I think I should join you just to help keep this boy sane…” Silque suggested. Faye practically snarled at that.

“That’s my job!” she cried out, darting forward. Alm grabbed her, and Faye began cooling down.

“Oh… I’m sorry, Faye, I didn’t mean to intrude…” Silque muttered. Alm began stroking her shoulders, and Faye calmed down.

“...Sorry…” Faye said in a very not-sorry tone. Silque groaned to herself, realising that Faye would forever be defensive of the boy. She made a mental note to ask someone why, and turned to Jesse.

“Are you coming with us, Jesse?” Silque asked.

“Are you kidding? Escorting a cute girl is all well and good, but I’m not about to risk my neck for some stuffy noble for free!” Jesse proclaimed.

“We do offer wages,” Lukas pointed out.

“Where do I sign up?” Jesse asked, his tone doing a sharp 180. Lukas sighed.

“If only recruiting Sir Mycen were so easy…” Lukas muttered. Silque turned to Gray, Tobin and Kliff.

“Boys… before we leave, would you like to offer a prayer to Mother Mila?” Silque asked. Gray was about to ask why, when he recalled Faye’s power shortly after her prayer.

“Sure, why not?” he stated.

* * *

 

The group made camp under the shadow of Mother Mila’s statue that night, everyone coming to grips with what they had seen and done that day. Everyone was gathered together- while the group was so small, Lukas didn’t feel as if they should be socially separated. Gray moaned dramatically as Silque worked on his bumps and bruises- by all accounts, the Mother blessing him should have healed him, so Silque was sure it was at least one part faking.

“So, what exactly is it like, being a village child?” Clair asked Alm. Faye was in his arms, purring contentedly, so she wasn’t inclined to lash out at Clair for that. As the thought occurred to Alm, the realisation that he should probably work on that with her occurred to him.

“It’s… well, it’s certainly not as entertaining as your life would be. It’s caring for the sheep- and those old things are kinda jerks. Grandfather never let me out of the village, and the same few games with this group start to get boring when that’s all you wind up playing…” Alm remarked.

“Well, I suppose I can’t blame you. Here I was, thinking you were tired of Faye fawning over you,” Tobin pointed out.

“Hey! She’s-” Alm exclaimed, but Clair’s laugh caught him off guard.

“You two certainly have a strong bond- though something’s telling me it’s not a romantic one,” Clair laughed. Alm looked away nervously, and Lukas gave a cough.

“Lady Clair, perhaps you should offer something about yourself and Sir Clive?” Lukas suggested.

“What about it? ...Oh, you mean the fact I’m probably the same for him?” Clair asked. Alm’s eyes widened at that.

“But… Clive loves Mathilda, doesn’t he?” Gray asked.

“Yes, he does. I’m Clive’s sister, so I’d certainly  _ hope _ he doesn’t feel that way about me. I’d like for him to be a bit more of a big brother, but…” Clair remarked.

“Don’t worry!” Gray and Tobin said at once, before turning to one another.

“Ooh boy…” Kliff remarked.

“Ooh boy indeed. Men fighting over a woman’s hand… I have been that woman, and Clive has been one of those men for Lady Mathilda. It is simply never pleasant…” Clair echoed. She nudged along, and placed her hand besides the one Alm was using to hold himself up. Lukas refrained from making a sarcastic remark.

“Personally, I enjoy a little healthy competition. Keeps the boys sharp,” Jesse suggested. Clair glared at him, and Faye pulled her head out of Alm’s chest to do the same.

“...Tough crowd, hm?” Jesse asked.

“The fool will not make light of a situation that had just been declared touchy by the audience!” Clair ordered.

“Yes, Miss Clair…” Jesse murmured.

“That’s  _ Lady _ Clair, peasant,” Clair barked.

“Lady Clair, please, go easy on him. We can’t afford to antagonise one another…” Lukas told her sharply. Clair sighed.

“...You’re right, Lukas. ‘Not every soldier in our ranks is noble, but we must treat them all as equals’. Perhaps remembering the infighting of nobles caused me to think like one… I don’t think I miss that feeling,” Clair remarked.

“You mean you don’t miss nobility?” Jesse asked. Clair blinked.

“...All my life, I wanted to be treated like Mathilda- a woman who could be just as competent on the battlefield as she could in a noble house. I fancy myself better at embroidery and dance than her, but I’m not exactly a pushover when I’m in the air. But Clive and Fernand don’t really see that warrior when they see me fight… but one day, I’ll prove it,” Clair elaborated.

“I see… I’m a simple mercenary. You’d sell me on anything if it paid well. I don’t really get nuances like that,” Jesse pointed out. Clair shrugged.

“I’m getting tired… come along, Faye,” Clair suggested. Faye grumbled, but allowed Clair to escort her to some tents a distance away- so the girls could have some privacy. Silque, after a little thought, hustled after them.

“Gray? Tobin? Are you two all right?” Alm asked.

“...That girl is going to be a handful,” Tobin remarked.

“That’s what I’m hoping, anyway,” Gray added. Alm rolled his eyes in Faye’s absence.

* * *

 

The three girls set themselves down, with Clair making sure to corner Faye. Faye glared at her, a glare Clair confidently ignored.

“Faye, I want you to tell me why you’re so defensive of Alm,” Clair told her. Faye blinked.

“Well… when we were little, Alm had this friend… Celica, her name was. They were inseparable. But then Celica had to go away… and Alm didn’t take that well. I can still feel the pain in him… and that’s why I don’t want him being attached to anyone else. He’ll… he’ll not like it when they go away…” Faye told her. Clair raised an eyebrow, but did not allow Faye to notice.

“You look out for his best interests, don’t you?” Clair asked.

“Celica told me to look after Alm before she left. I’m looking after him,” Faye stated. Clair smiled.

“What do you like doing when Alm’s not around?” Clair asked. Faye blinked, her mouth agape. Clair gave her a minute before she continued.

“You… don’t do anything other than look after him?” Clair asked.

“Celica told me to look after Alm before she left. I’m looking after him,” Faye repeated. Clair allowed shock to appear on her face.

“Then we simply  _ must _ do something together sometime. Just you and me. We’ll make you your own girl yet,” Clair proclaimed.

“Thanks, but…” Faye started, looking back towards the boys’ area. Raucous cheering sounded.

“...You poor dear. I suppose it will take time to help you mature… I guess we’ll take it slow. I’d like for you to sleep with me tonight, but if you simply must attend to Alm, I’m not going to stop you,” Clair told her. Faye looked down, feeling somewhat odd.

“...Thanks, Clair. I think I’ll go check on Alm…” Faye remarked, standing to go straight to the boys’ camp.

“...Was I like this when Mathilda was courting Clive?” Clair asked.

“If you weren’t… good luck with that girl,” Silque remarked from her tent. Clair sighed to herself. It would be hard going, getting Faye on her side...

 


	5. Power of the Commoners

The next day, with solid rest under the protection of the Earth Mother, the group set out to hopefully meet up with the rest of the Deliverance. They certainly didn’t have to hope for long- Fernand’s silver head was bowed down in front of the cave, studying a white feather that must’ve fallen from Clair’s pegasus.

“Lady Clair!” Fernand exclaimed. Clair smiled, as Fernand approached her to give her a hug. Fernand looked around, noticing her company.

“And who are these commoners?” Fernand asked.

“This is Sir Alm, Mycen’s grandson. Those four are his friends, and those two at the back are new recruits,” Clair explained. Fernand opened his mouth in anger, turning to Lukas.

“Berkut got to him… Mycen is dead. Alm has volunteered for us- he is no Mycen, yes, but we must work with what we have. If you demand I procure us a hero, the Deliverance is likely to be left waiting for too long,” Lukas explained.

“But still… this common rabble?” Fernand asked.

“This ‘common rabble’ is not without merit. Did you not think less of me when I first joined the Knights of Zofia? Why should  _ my _ rise to power be accepted, and that of these boys be not?” Clair asked. Fernand growled.

“That would be because you are merely a woman, while they are untrained rabble. There is a world of difference between your potential skill,” Fernand stated. Clair raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t recall you being so…  _ petty _ ?” Clair asked. Fernand growled.

“That is not what I mean, and you know it, even if you pretend otherwise. I will  _ not _ take your word for this- I want to see them in action myself before I believe you. Until then… I suppose I will tolerate them accompanying you,” Fernand stated, turning to ride away. Alm turned to Clair, raising an eyebrow.

“So who was he?” Alm asked.

“Fernand… he is my brother’s best friend. Those two… you’d never find closer friends than them. But ‘village rabble’, as he calls them… they killed his family. He hasn’t trusted anyone but us and Mathilda… not even Lukas is safe from his anger,” Clair explained.

“It is an understandable trait, but it is certainly irksome. I fear Clive may need to face a difficult decision soon because of Fernand…” Lukas added. Alm looked after Fernand.

“...Let’s march,” Alm stated. Lukas nodded. Clive would get worried about Clair soon enough.

* * *

 

“LADY CLAIR!” a loud voice called. Clair smiled, and called for the party to stop moving as the fellow rode forward. Lukas smirked, the sight of Forsyth in a panic not quite worrying him yet. The rest of the party, who were less familiar with the excitable green soldier, were looking around and idly chattering amongst themselves.

“Forsyth. We are safe, and on our way to the hideout. There’s no reason to be so concerned,” Lukas calmly stated.

“Lukas, Hog Village is under attack by Berkut!” Forsyth exclaimed at the top of his lungs. Lukas felt something twist inside himself.

“Then we best be quiet, and go into hiding. Berkut killed Sir Mycen- cowardly, yes, but there is no way we can stand against him,” Lukas stated.

“I may be excitable to the point of forgetting my place, but even  _ I _ recognise that challenging the most powerful man in all of Rigel is a fool’s errand. I don’t mean to speak ill of Sir Clive, but…” Forsyth started.

“...My brother has done what?” Clair asked.

“I fear he has charged in to protect the villagers,” Forsyth stated. Clair sighed.

“Come, Alm. We must save my brother,” she remarked. Alm sputtered.

“Clair… we can’t hope to stop Berkut,” Lukas reminded her.

“It would be better to die trying than live knowing I left him to die. Foolish though his plan may have been, he is still my brother, and there’s no way I could live my life with that on my conscience. Besides, what would I tell Mathilda when we rescue her?” Clair asked.

“You truly think we will get that far…” Lukas started, before everyone turned to him in horror.

“You speak the truth… but…” Clair started, beginning to tear up.

“This won’t be a suicide mission. We will turn back Rigel. We cannot allow them to walk all over us,” Alm proclaimed.

“Alm? Didn’t you hear? Danger! Danger bad!” Tobin pointed out.

“And you can’t fight Berkut!” Faye added, grabbing him in worry.

“Regardless, we must at least  _ try _ to get Clive out of there. And hopefully the villagers, too…” Alm stated. Lukas sighed.

“Well, it  _ is _ part of the lands my family owns, so I suppose I can’t be  _ too _ opposed to getting ourselves killed…” Lukas moaned.

“We can’t die here! We’ve got more impressive feats of bravery to kill us later!” Gray proclaimed.

“...Kids, can you lighten up a little?” Jesse asked from the rear.

* * *

 

Clive’s lance met Berkut’s once again, his quick ripostes being the one thing saving him against the overwhelming power of Berkut. He watched another family start fleeing past them, and Berkut knocked Clive’s lance aside. He raised it against the mother in the group, to which Clive responded with a hurried punch. It hurt Clive more than it did Berkut, but the few seconds Berkut was distracted were enough to get the family free.

“Why do you struggle still, worm? Your power is  _ nothing _ to mine,” Berkut asked.

“Power is meaningless without the strength of character required to use it for good. I think you missed an important lesson in your path to power, Berkut,” Clive responded.

“That’s  _ LORD _ Berkut to you, swine!” Berkut roared, raising his lance overhead. A wicked-looking javelin dropped down, narrowly missing Berkut’s head and definitely startling him from finishing his blow. The next blow from the pegasus knight sent him reeling backwards, winded, as she passed directly past him, on the opposite side. Clair pirouetted on her steed, facing Berkut once more with an iron lance in her grip.

“And you shall address that ‘swine’ as Sir Clive, Berkut,” Clair told him. Clive gasped.

“Run, Clive,” Clair told him. Clive began to sputter out a response.

“Foolish child… begone from my sight,” Berkut boomed, charging forward with his lance. Clair pulled her pegasus back, and lunged her lance forward. Berkut’s minute movement was not enough to keep him off balance, and his next blow could come quickly. Clair brought her lance up just in time, her breath coming heavily now- she could very easily die here. She had to somehow distract Berkut long enough to flee. And she couldn’t start a distraction that would keep Berkut looking away from her…

“You have skill, pegasus rider,” Berkut muttered. He lunged, a blow Clair quickly parried. Her parry came clumsily- she was nearing her end.

“You, meanwhile, appear to be looking for the weakest Zofians you can find to kill and claim your strength. Can one really call you a man worthy of being called a strong Rigelian?” Clair asked.

“Who are you to question a Rigelian warrior, Zofian princess? I have been fighting since before you were born! Certainly longer than you have considered seeing a battlefield, at any rate,” Berkut spat.

“Buzz off, please…” a man’s voice sighed. Berkut turned, to see Python shoot an arrow at him. The arrow bounced off his armour, but Clair was able to turn and prepare an escape. Clive darted away.

“Who are you, peasant?” Berkut asked.

“Name’s Python. Hello, and GOODBYE!” Python called, firing another arrow before Clair scooped him onto her pegasus and shot away from Berkut like an arrow. Berkut growled, and prepared his reins.

“ _ Lord Berkut! _ ” a woman called. Berkut turned, and hurriedly dismounted to kneel as a beautiful woman strode towards him purposefully. Clair was well clear of Berkut when she started speaking, but Clair could hear the fact she was yelling.

* * *

 

Clair set Python down at a small gathering outside the village where Lukas had been gathering evacuees, and where the other troops had gathered once they had managed to clear a portion of the village away from Berkut and his wrathful swath- fortunately, it was just Berkut and there was no fire this time, so that was much easier than it was in Ram. Clair shot up into the skies, attempting to focus her vision upon where Berkut and the woman were arguing in Hog’s square. As she was watching out for Berkut’s next movements, Clive approached Alm.

“So, you are Sir Mycen’s grandson, I take it?” Clive asked. Alm jumped, and Faye grabbed hold of him- Alm found it oddly comforting that, even though Faye was using her healer’s talents, she still managed to stay within arm’s reach of Alm at all times.

“Y-Yeah… Yeah, I am,” Alm remarked.

“Calm, boy. I am Sir Clive, captain of the Deliverance, and its leader in Mathilda’s absence. Lukas has told me about how my sister Clair has taken a shine to you- I hardly think I will begrudge you and risk her ire,” Clive told him. Alm gave a nervous chuckle- he didn’t have a lot of faith in the guy when he heard he charged Berkut for little gain, and he certainly wasn’t trying to curry any favour now.

“Alm… our morale is falling. We’ve lost too many men in our recent escapades-” Clive started.

“Rescuing simple commoners, you mean?” Fernand growled. Alm jumped aside, as the two knights approached one another.

“Yes, rescuing the people of Zofia. They are the reason we fight at all, and I shall not allow Desaix and the Rigelians to trample them like common livestock,” Clive stated.

“Yeah, um… what made you think you could handle Berkut?” Alm asked. Clive turned to him in shock.

“Alm, you were raised amongst commoners. You should feel a lot more sympathetic towards the people of Hog,” Clive told him.

“Should I? I have never left Ram, and Faye never mentioned a village called Hog when she told me all about her travels. I don’t have personal investments, but I do have self preservation. And of the ways to handle the rescue effort for Hog, charging into face one of Rigel’s strongest knights… what would Mathilda have done?” Alm let out in a tirade. Clive looked down.

“Mathilda… would probably have sided with you. She was always more perceptive than I… Alm, this role of leadership of the Deliverance was thrust upon me by disaster. I did not want it, nor have I proven myself to be capable of wielding it. I understand you have no experience, but… I want you to become a captain alongside me. I want you to take a hand in the way the Deliverance is run,” Clive told him.

“...What?” Alm asked.

“My thoughts exactly, Clive. You’re trusting the lives of our men in this commoner?” Fernand asked.

“Commoner he may have been grown as, but he has Sir Mycen’s blood. And at any rate, I certainly haven’t been proving myself…” Clive started.

“For Mila’s sake… Clive, if you know you’re doing badly, then  _ do better next time _ . It’s not exactly difficult,” Fernand told him.

“Fernand… it’s not just because of me. Alm probably lacks skills I possess that would require us to work in union to serve the Deliverance properly. But whatever it is that makes Alm not the one for the job, I will not accept his common station as the root of it. There are commoners amongst the Deliverance- probably more common than the nobles. And yet, we remain at the top, with nothing for the commoners to put faith in…” Clive discussed.

“And you have never considered why that is? From birth, nobles are taught the skills they need to be leaders. Commoners are taught the skills to be followers, and even then, they do a bad job of it. Alm’s got the eyes of a follower… and I’m not going to follow a follower!” Fernand yelled.

“Fernand!” Clive exclaimed.

“I trusted the Deliverance because you were at the helm- you and Mathilda. But your mistakes…  _ you _ let Mathilda get captured.  _ You _ charged into village after village, sacrificing men and threatening the well being of many more, including  _ Clair _ … and now you have the  _ audacity _ to suggest this wretched band of filth can sink  _ lower _ ?” Fernand asked.

“Fernand, the Deliverance needs common support if we are to win the war. You  _ must _ understand this!” Clive implored.

“I have had enough of this! I shall do what you have been unable and arouse the nobles from their hiding places, and I shall conquer Zofia Castle myself! Gods, it’s about time  _ someone _ did!” Fernand bellowed, storming off. Clive was left staring.

“...Berkut has left Hog, and I think he’ll not be getting in our hair,” Clair reported, before looking between Clive, Alm, and Fernand’s retreating back.

“...So, Alm, about that captaincy…” Clive sputtered.

“Shouldn’t you be more worried about Fernand?” Alm asked.

“Ah… um… you see… we’ve been clashing a lot lately… and… um… this…” Clive sputtered. Alm turned to Clair.

“I guess if it means you have someone other than this guy, I’ll do my best,” Alm stated. Clair gasped, before looking at Clive, who was still looking very shaken.

“...He is my brother…” Clair muttered. Alm gasped, and stuttered out an apology.

* * *

 

As Clair walked through the camp that night, she caught wind of a group discussion in the tent where Gray, Tobin and Kliff were huddled. She heard her name, and stopped to listen in on it.

“But what do we do about archers?” Kliff asked.

“Remember what the Zofians told us? War bows that can scare pegasus knights are hard to come by in Zofia- and it’s not even like pegasus riders are dime a dozen either. Desaix wouldn’t think to pack them. And if he does, we’ve got more than enough shields for her to have,” Gray remarked.

“...I understand, but you said, I’d be sniping foes. You don’t seriously expect me to hit those targets while avoiding Clair?” Tobin asked.

“Tobin, I wouldn’t aim for Clair. I’d aim for the targets she can’t reach- and even then, it’s not like you’ll be doing it for long. We’ll need your help once we reach the throne room,” Gray stated.

“Right, the throne room… because Desaix will be waiting for us there, won’t he?” Kliff asked.

“The man loves his luxury, or so the knights sing. That comfortable throne… he’ll definitely know who’s sitting in it, if it’s not him. We just have to get him to the throne room and defeat him,” Gray told him.

“...I still say you’re putting a lot of faith in my magic,” Kliff said.

“Yours  _ and _ Faye’s. And Tobin’s archery to distract him. I’m more worried about  _ me _ .  _ I _ ’m the one going toe to toe with him. Alm might, too, but  _ we’re _ the ones that’ll get skewered,” Gray exclaimed. Clair’s heart caught in her throat.

“I still say that’s not a good idea. I don’t want you roasted to a crisp, either… I’d like for Desaix to be somehow frozen in place,” Kliff interjected. Clair let out a sigh of relief.

“Is… is that someone eavesdropping?” Tobin asked.

“It’s a big camp, and we’re discussing strategy kinda loudly. I’m positive it is,” Kliff remarked. Clair suddenly felt a grip around her waist, as she was pulled into the tent and face-to-face with Gray.

“Well, hello there…” Gray quipped. Clair pushed him away.

“What is it you boys are planning, then?” Clair asked.

“Well… see, I know your precious brother Clive doesn’t want us to charge on Zofia Castle yet, but Kliff thinks differently,” Gray told her.

“Fernand’s defection, though unfortunate, presents an opportunity we’ll only be able to take once. He’ll organise his knights to charge Zofia Castle, distracting the garrison while they deal with him. This is one of the best opportunities we’ll have to attack, using a side entrance to the castle to get right to Desaix,” Kliff explained. Clair sat down beside the map one of the soldiers had drawn them, and traced her fingers along the routes the boys had added.

“Impressive… but you boys know you have the Deliverance to count on, right? Tobin, Python can aid you with archery. Gray, Lukas is better at taking hits. And Kliff… well, I can’t say we’ve got mages, but the momentum was there,” Clair told him.

“Gee, thanks,” Kliff remarked.

“Don’t be so sarcastic, Kliff. Thanks, Clair. We’ll owe you one,” Tobin told him.

“You’ll repay that debt by actually succeeding at this plan. You are aware as to the consequences for failing, are you not?” Clair asked.

“Death. For us, anyway- we’re common commoners, and these two are barely fit for the workhouse,” Gray told her.

“I’m sure it can’t get much worse than that, anyway,” Tobin added.

“Oh, it will. But that’s for Clair and Clive. The rest of us will be lucky enough to die,” Kliff snarked. Clair looked at the drawing again, and saw the little picture of her they drew beside her arrow. Whoever drew it put in a lot of effort… Clair gave a small smile.

“So, good-looking… are you in?” Gray asked. Clair rolled her eyes, and turned to Kliff.

“I’m in,” Clair said.

* * *

 

“You want to do  _ what _ ?” Clive asked. Clair giggled.

“We will be capitalising on Fernand’s headlong charge into Zofia Castle to break in ourselves and defeat that dastardly Desaix!” Clair stated. Clive blinked.

“Clair, I think you need to sit down,” Clive remarked.

“Righty-o then. I’ll take it from here…” Gray remarked, sidling up to where Clair was standing. Clive let out a large sigh, as Tobin and Kliff prepared to do the same when Clive dismissed Gray.

“Very well. Your idea is certainly not going to die here. But I will  _ not _ have you recklessly endangering my sister!” Clive bellowed.

“Then I’ll accompany her,” Faye said in a somewhat quiet tone. Everyone looked between each other, passing coin around in what appeared to be a betting pool. Clair was not fazed.

“Splendid, my dear! We simply  _ must _ join forces. My flight and your noble magic shall be enough to handle all the forces we need!” Clair exclaimed. More muttering, as Faye and Clair locked eyes. Faye’s determined ones and Clair’s trusting ones certainly scared everyone who knew the relationship between the two and Alm- and Silque certainly let that connection spread.

“...I said I wanted Clair  _ safe _ ,” Clive repeated.

“I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Clair asked. More muttering, and Clive joined in, turning to Python and Forsyth behind him. No one wanted to address the fact that they all suspected Faye would resort to foul play to keep Alm. Partially because they recognised the odds that she  _ wouldn’t _ , and addressing it would cause friction with one of the scariest fighters in the Deliverance.

Clair was  _ not _ safe.

“...I shall join you,” Lukas stated.

“As shall I!” Forsyth called.

“Not me,” Python snarked. Forsyth elbowed him in the ribs, which did not get him to change his tune.

“...Then I suppose I must join you,” Clive remarked.

“Then it’s settled… we do Gray’s idea!” Alm exclaimed. A rousing cheer echoed his statement, and everyone hustled to make preparations. Who knew when Fernand would make his approach- the Deliverance would have to be set up before he arrived. Everyone hustled to clear up, as Alm approached Faye cautiously.

“Faye…” Alm started. Faye turned to him.

“Hello, Alm…” Faye replied briefly. Something inside her seemed to be off…

“Faye, I… I like Clair. She’s a reasonable noble that’s a great shot with a javelin, and not that bad to look at, either. I want you to make sure she comes back from this mission safely,” Alm told her. Faye blinked, biting her lip cautiously. Alm leaned in, and gave the girl a hug, to which Faye, after a moment of shock, returned graciously.

“I won’t let any archers get a shot in,” Faye whispered, and Alm smiled. He had noticed Faye’s, and the rest of the Deliverance’s, apprehension about the mission, and was hopeful that his brief word was enough to keep Faye focused. He suspected something was affecting the pair’s relationship on a deeper level, but Alm had neither the time nor the patience to investigate.

* * *

 

Fernand approached the nobles of Zofia in their hiding place, finding them in some squabble about land. The men had simply no survival tactics, and it was high time Fernand restored them to their rightful place in Zofia Castle.

“Men! The Deliverance is no more! Sir Clive has thrown in his lot with a village boy named Alm, grandson of Mycen!” Fernand pronounced. The argument fluidly changed to arguments about Sir Mycen.

“Good. Now that I have your attention,” Fernand started.

“You don’t have our attention,” one of the nobles called.

“It’s time to restore your rightful place!” Fernand stated. No response.

“Sir Clive is a disgrace? Money? Women? Erm… I have the nicest land?” Fernand asked. That last one got eyes facing him.

“...Good. Desaix has sat on Zofia’s throne for too long- Rigelians have snuck onto Zofian soil and now run amok, burning our villages- and our taxes. It’s high time we took a stand against that shoddy knight once and for all!” Fernand stated.

“What about that Deliverance? They’ll do the dirty work!” a noble called.

“No, they will not. Sir Mycen’s grandson, a commoner named Alm, leads them. They’ll never accomplish anything,” Fernand spat. Murmurs of assent echoed.

“If Clive won’t do anything about the man eating our finest foods, I say we do it ourselves. We march on Zofia Castle noontime tomorrow!” Fernand exclaimed, to a glorious reply. He smirked. Regardless of the nobles’ skill, it would be better than the commoners’ efforts.


	6. Final Stand at Zofia

Berkut looked across the land of Zofia. He felt Rinea’s gentle grip on his arm, as he noticed a force preparing in the trees. Berkut growled.

“Foolish children…” Berkut remarked.

“What’s wrong?” Rinea asked. Berkut pointed the soldiers out, and then the reactions of the formal watch.

“We know they’re coming. We can prepare a solid defence, and destroy their futile resistance,” Berkut pointed out.

“Be careful, Berkut… they could be a diversionary force,” Rinea pointed out. Berkut looked around to either side of the castle.

“Obviously. What other points of attack do they have? All of our weaknesses are covered,” Berkut stated. Rinea looked down, worried.

“...Berkut, have you considered what I have said about destroying villages?” Rinea asked, changing the subject.

“You mean that thing about not enjoying bloodshed for bloodshed’s sake? I… that confused me somewhat, my dearest. I do not destroy villages for the sake of fun. I am trying to quell those who might rise up against Rigel, as I myself have done…” Berkut explained to her.

“And yet you let that Alm boy go, just to see if he’s going to measure up to Mycen one day. If you’re going to lie to me, at least lie well. You’re just resentful of the peasant life, aren’t you?” Rinea asked. Berkut growled, and Rinea brought one hand up to his face.

“Berkut… you’ll always be my emperor, no matter what happens. But you must prove your strength against men with your skill, not against defenceless villagers,” Rinea told him.

“What about Mycen?” Berkut asked.

“Didn’t you tell me the battle was one-sided, and he didn’t bring a lance? Berkut, that’s not a victory, that’s murder,” Rinea told him. Berkut sighed.

“...Well, at any rate, the only thing we’ll get if we stay here is a slaughter. Care to return to Rigel?” Berkut asked. Rinea smiled.

“Now  _ that _ is a suggestion I can get behind. This thick Zofian heat is so uncomfortable compared to the Rigelian chill…” Rinea complained.

“Perhaps you could take off the fur coat?” Berkut joked. Rinea shook her head, and Berkut nodded understandingly.

“Perhaps when we get home, then?” Berkut asked. Rinea giggled.

“Maybe. I’m still not happy about your little massacres,” Rinea told him. Berkut growled, but Rinea gave him a gentle stroke on the face.

“I know there’s a good emperor somewhere in there…” Rinea told him.

* * *

 

Alm looked up at Zofia Castle’s side entrance. There would be swift access to the throne room for Gray, Tobin and Kliff. There was also a passage for Lukas, Forsyth and Clive to reach the battlements and begin to form a takeover of the rank and file once Clair cleared a foothold. There were a few redundancies, but they had one shot, and blowing it would cost them everything. Python let out a call- Fernand had arrived. It wouldn’t be long until they charged.

“Understood… men, I stand before you today to deliver at invigorating speech. Unfortunately, Clive never gave me one, and I can’t make one up on the spot. Zofia is in trouble, and it is our job to save her. Let’s go do that!” Alm called. Python let out a cheer, and several rank-and-file members of the Deliverance did likewise. Alm smiled, happy to get their favour, before turning and waiting to make sure Fernand made the first move. He didn’t have to wait long- Fernand gave no attempt at bargaining, instead opting to charge his men straight in. Alm could order the assault very quickly, relative to what they had expected.

It almost made one wonder if they were any wiser than Fernand.

Alm and the Ram boys turned, making their way to the throne room through the passage Clair had drilled into their brains. Left turn. Right turn. Middle fork. Left turn. They emerged in a beautiful room, lavish with decoration, and a bulky, armoured man sitting on an ornate throne opposite them. His bald head and thick beard were unmistakable- this was Desaix.

“Desaix! Your coup ends here!” Alm called. Desaix remained where he was.

“Desaix! We’re here to stop you!” Gray boomed. More silence. Tobin fired an arrow, one that Desaix took to the eye. No response.

“...Desaix?” Kliff asked. The four boys cautiously approached the chancellor, careful for sudden archers that might appear to ambush them. The heavyset man was still sitting on the throne grinning. Alm poked him. The feeling was not unlike poking soft clay.

“Fools,” the all-too familiar sound of Slayde’s voice called. Alm turned, to see the man on his horse, standing triumphantly before him, a dragon-scale shield on his left arm and a scary-looking lance in his right.

“Slayde…” Alm said, his sword brandished. Tobin and Kliff braced themselves, and Gray stood beside him.

“Correct. The chancellor has fled Zofia like a coward, leaving this monstrosity in his place. Fool- you Deliverance rabble will be easy prey. This Dracoshield Berkut lent me… oh Lord. It is such a fine shield…” Slayde explained.

“Berkut… so you are in league with Rigelian scum. General Slayde, for what you have done through your miserable life… today shall be your final day,” Alm told him, before charging. Gray jumped, and followed. Kliff let out a blast of fire, to which Slayde brought the Dracoshield up to block surprisingly effectively. Kliff looked around, blinked, and looked around again.

“CRAP!” Kliff cried out. Tobin jumped, looking around as well.

“What happened?” Tobin asked.

“...We forgot to bring Faye here,” Kliff explained, slinging another Fire spell. Tobin looked at Slayde, whose horse was posing significant danger to Alm and Gray.

“On the bright side, it’s not the only thing that went wrong with our end. But we’ve got to be careful- without Faye’s healing magic, there’s only so much fire you can make,” Tobin remarked. Kliff growled, shooting a third fireball that managed to miss. Defeating Slayde was starting to look the sorry side of impossible… surviving, on the other hand, was merely ‘unlikely’.

“Damn you, Fernand, for not giving us more time to prepare…” Kliff growled.

“That’s… kinda why he left us. That, and being a classist jerk,” Tobin reminded him.

* * *

 

Clair swooped across Zofia Castle’s battlements, allowing Faye to blast Nosferatus down below before the archers could get their bearings to take aim. Clair smirked at the play, and swooped down again. She threw some javelins, before stopping for the brief second necessary for Faye to drop off onto the battlement that would eventually be reinforced. She appeared off balance, encouraging the angry soldiers to approach her, before several Nosferatus made them think twice.

“For Alm!” Faye let out, before holding her hand aloft. Clive appeared on the ramparts, and for whatever timid man he appeared before, this was apparently his element. His own javelin quiver was emptied much slower than Clair’s favoured javelin blitz, but he made up for it by using the javelins as makeshift weapons before he threw them. Faye summoned Forsyth to the front lines, before hearing a panicked scream from the throne room.

“ALM!” Faye yelled without a doubt, and bolted from the ramparts. Clair gasped, and her momentary lapse of concentration netted her a blow to the back of the head.

* * *

 

Alm parried Slayde’s strike, knocking the lance loose. He gave a flurry of strikes, followed by Gray’s, to try and capitalise on Slayde’s weakness. Once again, the effort was in vain- the dracoshield kept Slayde well defended. Gray growled, wondering how to get it off him for the millionth time. It was practically required, but every attempt was doomed to failure. Alm turned to Kliff, who was on the ground in exhaustion, and Tobin, who was running out of arrows.

“Do you tire of our battle? Is it time for me to claim victory? You’ve caused me some great hardship, letting that little girl evade my grasp…” Slayde growled.

“Celica  _ died _ that day!” Alm yelled, swinging his sword down. Slayde chuckled.

“I wasn’t aware of that. Glad to hear my goal succeeded in the end,” Slayde laughed, his lance coming around to knock him away. Alm landed gently, looking up in exhaustion. He gave a little smirk, as he noticed something approaching behind Slayde.

“Perhaps the only success to your name,” Alm laughed. Slayde blinked, before he felt a tingling sensation in his back.

“NO MORE!” Faye called, draining Slayde’s energy with Nosferatu. The Dracoshield had not been brought around to face her, so the full force of Faye’s efforts to protect Alm were brought to bear. Rooted in place, Faye was focused on her Nosferatu spell. Slayde fell to the ground, and Faye ripped the Dracoshield from his arm.

“No. More,” Faye stated, kicking him in the head. She jerked her head, getting Gray over to deal with Slayde, while Alm approached her.

“Faye… thanks…” Alm muttered. Faye smiled, and gave Alm a massive hug.

“All I care about is that you’re safe, Alm,” Faye told him. Alm smiled.

“Captain of the Deliverance! Come on out! We have your pegasus knight!” a gravelly voice boomed. Alm looked at Faye, who weakly smiled.

“Clair…” Alm started, rushing to go and confront the force.

* * *

 

Alm emerged onto the royal balcony, finding that before the conventional exit. He looked across the courtyard, to see the sight that would terrify even the hardest of generals- the Deliverance had been taken. Clair was held in the centre of the courtyard, a sword to her throat, while the others had voluntarily surrendered. Alm was petrified- he wasn’t a hard general. He was still a villager the Deliverance had just taken to calling ‘sir’. How was he to diffuse this?

“Captain Alm. You are to relinquish control of Castle Zofia to the Rigelian Empire. Fail… and this knight of yours dies. You have one minute to decide!” a Rigelian called. Alm turned to the boys.

“Don’t you dare!” Gray said immediately and predictably. Alm gave a smile at that.

“I know it’s not the right thing to do… but you saw us trying to defeat Slayde. We barely managed it, and there’s no way we could fight an entire army of trained soldiers,” Alm pointed out.

“...I’m in this for my family… Alm, if I go, they might not have anyone to fend for them. Which side am I supporting?” Tobin asked.

“Tobin, he’s got a difficult choice to make. Don’t make it harder,” Gray scolded. Alm turned to Kliff.

“...Rigelians… aren’t all bad… there’ll… there’ll be something for us if we give in…” Kliff remarked.

“But what?” Alm asked. The four boys shared glances.

“...Say yes. We’ve got to save Clair at all costs. If we want any hope of surviving what Rigel throws at us, Clair is our girl,” Tobin suggested.

“Are you mad?” Gray asked.

“Aren’t you the one that wants to woo her? You can’t woo a dead girl, Gray,” Tobin pointed out. Gray snarled, and Alm turned to the balcony, his expression hidden from the boys. The Rigelians were encroaching on his homeland… threatening Clair… he was incensed. He approached the balcony, hands shaking with anger, and looked down at the courtyard. The situation hardly looked better- the Deliverance had lost their armour, while Clair was still tightly held by one of the Rigelians. Alm growled.

“Let. Clair. Go,” Alm ordered, raising his left fist in annoyance. The Rigelians let out a laugh, before stopping suddenly.

“...You think you can brandish that little scar and be the boss of us? Unless you’re planning on surrendering, no deal,” the Rigelian holding Clair barked. Clair smiled slightly. Defiant to the end… and willing to save her. Clair only regretted that it wouldn’t work- though the Rigelians continued to mutter amongst themselves.

“Hey, Clair,” a girlish drawl sounded from behind the Rigelian holding her. He turned, and a hand shot out to grab the sword’s blade. Clair saw the gauntlet on it- it was Alm’s. Clair looked up at Alm, and noticed the missing left gauntlet she overlooked. And a funny-looking mark on the hand… was that what the Rigelians were on about?

The sword left her throat, and Clair dropped to the ground, allowing Faye to wrestle with the Rigelian. She closed her eyes, before letting out a burst of Nosferatu. The Rigelian was launched back, and the rest looked nervously at Faye. Several shot glances at Alm.

“Scared yet? Then run back to Rigel with your tails between your legs. And don’t come back until you pluck up the courage to face a little girl in a dress!” Faye taunted. The Rigelians looked at Alm, before retreating in a panicked-looking, but quite formal, retreat. The Deliverance noticed their armour remained, and grabbed it. Faye knelt down beside Clair, and started work healing her.

* * *

 

Once Clair had been taken to one of the castle’s rooms for rest, Clive found himself unsurprised, when he came around to visit her, that Alm, Gray and Tobin were by her side. Clive smiled at the sight of Clair asleep, before letting out a grunt. Alm looked up, and nodded at Clive’s arrival.

“You have done well, Alm. The efforts of you and your friends have won us Zofia Castle,” Clive stated. Alm vaguely nodded, looking back at Clair. Her chest was heaving- she was all right. Just resting.

“...She’s very angelic in rest, isn’t she?” Clive remarked. Alm nodded.

“She’s pretty angelic awake, too,” Alm replied. Clive stuttered- he had intended for Alm to turn his attention to him with that remark.

“Boys, I need to have a chat with our hero…” Clive asked Gray and Tobin. Gray shrugged.

“I think the sleeping girl is more interesting. Which I agree with. Probably says something insulting about you and you knights,” Gray scoffed. Clive nervously chuckled, before resting his hand on Alm’s shoulder.

“Alm… you are one of the Captains of the Deliverance. I simply must tell you my report so that you may act accordingly,” Clive told him. Alm nodded vaguely, turning to face him.

“Fernand is gone. Very few of the nobles he brought went with him- I suspect he’s looking for the northern ones, the ones who weren’t affected by the coup at Zofia, especially if he plans to march on Rigel. Our troop has no casualty- Clair’s capture happened too quickly for our men to start dropping. And despite Desaix’s absence, I feel confident that we can claim Zofia Castle as our own,” Clive reported. Alm nodded, his vacant expression remaining on his face.

“You don’t understand any of this…” Clive grumbled. Alm nodded, and Clive looked around awkwardly.

“I’ll…” Clive started, before leaving the room. Alm looked after him uncomfortably, before Clair stirred. Alm turned to her, as she awoke and saw his face.

“...Alm?” Clair asked. Alm smiled, wiping a lock of hair from her face. Clair giggled slightly.

“...You’re angelic in rest, you know?” Alm blurted out. Clair gasped indignantly, blushing furiously.

“I… is this how the common folk court one another?” Clair asked. It was Alm’s turn to blush.

“Court?” Alm asked. He turned to Gray and Tobin.

“That does mean what I think it means, right?” he asked. Tobin nodded. Gray shrugged.

“Alm… I know it’s hard, trying to live after… after Celica,” Clair told him.

“Celica? What about her?” Alm asked.

“...You liked her, didn’t you?” Clair asked. Alm shrugged, and Clair gave his cheek a gentle brush.

“Then… Alm, would you like me?” Clair asked. Alm gasped, and Clair found herself pulling into Alm suddenly. She took a shocked pause, before releasing Alm, who was looking quite shocked.

“Clair… I…” Alm started.

“...I blew it, didn’t I? I  _ knew _ there was something I missed between Clive and Mathilda…” Clair muttered. Alm smiled comfortingly.

“It’s… Clair, I… I need time. Time to get to know you, time to feel ready to let go… and…” Alm stuttered. Clair smiled.

“I’ll see if I can’t organise a little levity while we figure out what to do with Rigel…” Clair suggested.

* * *

 

Faye, meanwhile, was tending to Kliff. The young mage had overexerted his energy fighting Slayde, and while she wanted to be next to Alm, Kliff had caught her eye first. Kliff smiled as she worked on him.

“Faye… I’m sorry,” Kliff stated.

“About what?” Faye asked emotionlessly.

“About forgetting about your devotion to Alm in the plans. We meant for you to be fighting alongside him, but then you got reassigned to Clair along the way, and that reassignment wound up messing up the whole plan. You must be blaming yourself for getting Clair captured…” Kliff remarked.

“No, not really. I want Alm, and she’s in the way. _ I _ wasn’t counting on Alm being so determined to get her back,” Faye told him. Kliff blinked in shock, but Faye kept a neutral face.

“Faye… how important is Alm’s happiness to you?” Kliff asked. Faye tilted her head and humoured him.

“Very. Celica told me to do it, after all,” Faye pointed out. Kliff nodded.

“But wouldn’t losing Clair make him unhappy?” Kliff asked. Faye took a moment’s pause.

“I… but I’m supposed to be the responsible one! I… I can’t be…” Faye stuttered, and Kliff raised his arm to grab her shoulder. He didn’t quite get high enough, and wound up on her breast. Faye blinked, and moved the arm up for him.

“Faye, you’re amazing. Your dedication to making sure Alm is safe is outstanding. But that doesn’t mean that you have to be at his side at all times, fending off any woman who tries to look at him. It means you have to be there when he needs you… it means you have to accept when he wants someone else’s company,” Kliff told her.

“But he’s  _ my _ Alm…” Faye squeaked indignantly. Kliff smirked.

“He’s his own person, and he can do what he wants. All you can do is be there when he needs you. And that’s what will make you a good wife,” Kliff told her. His arm dropped from her shoulder, and Faye took it into her hand.

“...I’ll… I’ll be a good wife…” Faye muttered, breathing heavily.

* * *

 

_ And so, Zofia Castle was liberated, and the momentum Desaix and Rigel held over the people of Zofia had crumbled. The Deliverance, though far from an effective fighting force, now has a victory to its name, and Alm can only grow from here. The question now stands… what will the Deliverance do next? And will they be able to succeed at whatever their next goal is? For the battles can only become tougher to face… for the war has only just begun... _


	7. High Hopes

Celica looked between the two men in horror, knowing what she was looking at was only a brief respite in a heated battle. The blue-armoured knight, an older Alm, was exhaustedly facing a red-clad knight who Celica knew was Emperor Rudolf himself. Alm raised his sword, and Celica quailed.

“Rudolf… you…” Alm growled, leaping forward. Rudolf brought his shield up to block the blow, and Alm jumped back. As he did so, Rudolf lunged twice with his lance, both shots missing Alm by a hair. Celica stepped forward, hesitant to approach Alm as he let out a flurry of blows Rudolf continued to casually block.

“You took EVERYTHING! Everything I stood for! Zofia is in ruins! Celica is lost! My friends are trapped! And you… you turn around and do this?” Alm asked.

“Alm… please…” Rudolf muttered.

“Don’t give me that ‘father’ crap, Rudolf! Do you honestly think I’m going to forgive you just because Faye and Clair are still safe…” Alm yelled, turning his head to check on two girls that indeed looked unharmed, though shaken and held tightly by the Rigelians. Alm opened his mouth to finish his sentence, but Rudolf’s next lunge got him back in the fight. Celica’s heart was racing- Rudolf’s fatherly affection was sparing Alm, but eventually, whyever he was fighting so vigourously would have to give. Rudolf knocked Alm back with a heavy shield blow, and tossed it aside. Alm grunted, readying his next movements.

“ALM! STOP! I’m all right, we can settle this  _ without _ violence! Can’t you see you’re outmatched? ALM! PLEASE!” Celica begged. She found she couldn’t move from her spot, and Alm paid her no mind. With concern, she wondered whether her body would be here should this vision come to pass… and why Alm thought her lost if it was.

The fight renewed to cheering from the Rigelians, though at the least the two girls looked suitably concerned. Alm and Rudolf swung and counter-swung, parried and dodged, all at lightning speeds Celica was simply not ready to follow, but she knew said speed was going to cost Alm. If Rudolf could match him… he had the armour. He had the massive spear- as it thrust at Alm again, knocking him to the ground, Celica noticed just how big it was… how big Rudolf was…

“Alm…” Celica cried.

“Let him go!” one of the girls, in Faye’s distinctive voice, wailed. A Rigelian threw his arm across her mouth, and Celica struggled to reach her, knowing it was futile. She turned back to Alm, and noticed Rudolf looming over him… a darkened fire surrounding him… as Rudolf’s lance came down…

“NOOOOO!” Celica cried out, sitting bolt upright in her bed. She stood up and walked around, to confirm she could. She was still breathing and sweating heavily… but it was only a dream… only a nightmare… she hoped with every fibre of her being.

“Celica?” Mae’s voice asked. Celica turned to the girl, who had stirred in her blanket to face her.

“...It’s all right, Mae… it’s only a nightmare…” Celica told her. She thought about Alm and Faye… she had to be ready to help them should that come to pass. She took in a breath, before darting into Mae’s bed. Mae sighed wearily as she made room.

* * *

 

That morning, Celica pulled herself away from the small group to visit the Mila idol. Mae watched her go, itching to follow, but considering she saw Nomah in there, she thought it pertinent to wait.

“What’s wrong, Mae?” Genny asked.

“Celica had another nightmare. That’s the seventy-fourth since she’s come to us, and the forty-sixth this year,” Mae told her.

“Well, it’s been an awfully long Flostym…” Genny joked, to which Mae narrowed her eyes.

“I know you’re worried about her, Mae. But Celica’s a tough cookie,” Genny pointed out.

“I know… but I wanna find out why they’re so common now. Something’s gotta be causing them!” Mae pointed out.

“Something causing nightmares?” Boey asked. Mae and Genny looked up, and waved politely at him.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, Mae… but I don’t buy it. That’s not how nightmares work. Unless you’re saying Celica was somehow cursed, which means you’re saying Nomah let someone into the priory and tamper with Celica…” Boey pointed out, trailing off. Mae snapped her fingers.

“I’ve got it! It was Nomah!” Mae triumphantly claimed.

“Whatever you say, Mae…” Genny told her, turning to her breakfast.

* * *

 

“And… there is no way I can dissuade you from this?” Nomah asked, his long beard trailing along the ground. Celica nodded, her mind racing with equal parts fear and excitement.

“Zofia is in danger. The crops fail to grow, the sick come to our doors in droves… Mila would not allow this to happen. I must find out what happened to her,” Celica told him.

“Yes, well… I’m sure that the matter is of vital importance. But I don’t see why  _ you _ should have to go. You are the last remaining member of the Zofian royal line, and the bearer of Mila’s Brand. Must you go, knowing that the threat to your wellbeing is so great in these troubled times?” Nomah asked.

“I must. I know that leaving betrays the care you and Sir Mycen have shown me… but no one else is able and willing to check the Earth Mother’s haven. I must ask forgiveness… to calm both of our hearts,” Celica told him. Nomah smiled.

“I see your strong spirit has been fostering as well as your compassion. You will make a fine ruler one day. Trust in your faith, and do not allow indecision to strike at your heart and cause you to lose confidence in your path. And do not forget to take Mila’s Turnwheel along,” Nomah told him.

“I wear it always… Father. May you ever walk in the light of Mila’s blessing,” Celica told him. Nomah smiled, and watched her go.

“Wait… she’s leaving  _ now _ ?” Nomah asked.

* * *

 

Celica left the Mila idol, and headed for where Boey, Mae and Genny were still discussing her nightmares over breakfast. She smiled as they stopped the discussion, and she sat down beside them.

“I’m going to find out what’s wrong with Mila,” Celica stated.

“And I’m going with you,” Mae predictably followed. Celica nodded.

“I was about to ask you to,” Celica told her. Mae smiled, bringing her hand over to rest on hers.

“You’ll need someone to have for company,” Mae assured her.

“And I’m not letting you two wander off on your own. I’m coming too,” Boey stated, looking at their joined hands with a definite tinge of annoyance.

“Yeah, right. Like you’re going to be any help to anything,” Mae spat at him.

“There’s more to Celica than cuddling her. Seriously, I wonder why they tell  _ me _ not to get too close to her,” Boey shot right back.

“Like I don’t know that. I can conjure lightning, Boey. Beat that with just your lousy fire,” Mae retorted.

“Please stop fighting…” Genny whispered.

“Yes, please, good idea. Mae, you’re the emotional support. And Boey, you’re… probably going to do  _ something _ important. Regardless, another person slinging fire around is helpful regardless of the fact they may or may not have more tricks up their sleeve. Genny, are you in?” Celica asked. Genny jumped.

“What? Well… I mean… it’s a grand adventure and all, but…” Genny muttered.

“I understand,” Celica told her, leaning in to give her a hug goodbye. Genny returned it, but stepped back proudly.

“I’m coming. I just want to grab my writing stuff,” Genny told her. Celica smiled.

“Thanks. It would be lonely without you, and I’m sure you’d be lonely without us,” Celica pointed out. Genny shrugged.

“I wouldn’t have minded that much. But better not to take the risk,” Genny told her, leaving to retrieve her stuff.

“Oh great, I just realised we’re the snarkiest people on the continent, about to go on a journey together. We’d probably fight off the enemies by throwing verbal jabs at them,” Boey realised.

“Speak for yourself.  _ I _ might be able to stab the enemy with actual  _ lightning _ . Big, hurty lightning! You can keep your verbal jabs,” Mae retorted.

“Boey, Mae, if anyone’s going to go crazy from you two slinging mud at each other, it’ll be me and Genny long before any brigand. Besides, the snark I’ve seen Genny make up is  _ much _ more clever than the juvenile ‘my work is better than your work’ you two seem to have as your whole routine. So if you’re going to keep going, at least try to be creative about it,” Celica told the two.

“Yes, Celica…” they responded dejectedly in unison. Celica brought the two in for a hug.

“BOEY!” one of the clerics on duty called.

“COME ON! IT WAS CLEARLY HER MOVE!” Boey yelled back.

* * *

 

Celica left with the three mages before the cleric could get on Boey’s case for getting intimate with Celica, for which Boey was still thanking her for. Celica quietly bemoaned its necessity- it had been drilled into all four of their heads when Boey asked to join them that ‘Celica was off-limits’. Celica herself wasn’t clear on why, and Boey much preferred Mae anyway, that the insistence caused Celica much more harm than whatever it was meant to protect her from in the first place. After all, she quite liked her hugs.

“Celica… I think you should’ve made a turn…  _ anywhere _ before now?” Boey asked. Celica blinked, and noticed she was in the cemetery.

“...No, this is the way forward,” Celica told him confidently. Boey blinked.

“So… the way from port to the priory is through a cemetery? A cemetery crawling with revenants, I might add?” Boey asked. Celica turned, and noticed revenants approaching.

“...They’re friendly?” Celica asked.

“Celica, please… just admit you forgot to turn,” Mae told her. Celica sighed, and incinerated the closest revenant.

“I probably did. But this should be a welcome diversion. After all, what is a revenant but a slightly smarter brigand?” Celica asked.

“Terrifying?” Boey asked.

“And revenants are dumber than brigands?” Mae asked. Genny fired a Nosferatu into the din, blasting one down.

“Just as satisfying to knock down?” Genny asked.

“...Admittedly, yes, but I really don’t think…” Boey started, before Celica and Genny rushed in to start taking down the revenants. Mae shrugged and followed soon after.

“...Why do revenants have to be all undead and rotting and… wrong? Why couldn’t Celica have taken us to a haven full of fluffy bunnies?” Boey asked.

“Because we don’t have one of those here!” Mae called. Boey grunted, and followed them into the cemetery, where a revenant immediately lunged from behind and grabbed him. Boey screamed, and the resulting fire singed his cape.

“Boey, what is it this time, our loyal protector?” Mae asked.

“Do we  _ really _ have to stay here?” Boey asked. Celica ducked a revenant herself, and Mae dropped a thunderbolt on it.

“...OK, fine, we’re going,” Celica told him. She led Genny out of the cemetery, Mae following behind to fend off revenants. Once all four of the mages had left the perimeter, the remaining Terrors sunk into the earth.

“...I was about to tell you that if you couldn’t handle a few Terrors, you should probably head home now, but I don’t think there was going to be an end to that fight. Good call,” Celica told him.

“Wonder how anyone new gets buried in there,” Boey asked, as the group went to leave.

“Wonder if anyone can mourn for their loved ones in there,” Genny muttered.

“Wonder whose loved ones we just re-killed,” Mae added.

* * *

 

The party travelled to the port of Novis, the fishy scent an all too familiar reminder of the loss of the bounty of Mila that had sustained Zofia for so long. An elderly man looked at the four, and smiled at Celica.

“Greetings, milady Celica and friends. What brings you out here?” he asked. Celica nodded politely.

“We require passage to Zofia Harbour. Will this be available?” Celica asked. The old man sunk his head.

“I’m afraid not, milady. You see, pirates have come to reside in these waters. Most sailors are too terrified to attempt the crossing… it’s a pitiable situation. I even worry for our fish supply…” he pointed out. Celica turned to the others, who realised her intention immediately.

“Celica, I really think this is a bad idea,” Boey told her.

“I’m, uh… gonna have to agree with Boey on this one. Celica, revenants are one thing, but brigands are something else entirely,” Mae added.

“Plus, we’d be taking actual lives. Granted, not like they’re using them that wisely, but still…” Genny mumbled.

“All good points, yes. But there’s a reason we’re going on this quest in the first place, and that’s to find out what’s wrong with Mother Mila. That was always going to be dangerous. And it’s not like we have a choice to ignore these pirates anyway. Even if we commandeer our own ship, we still have to face them,” Celica pointed out.

“Well… yeah,” Mae muttered.

“But… it’s not ideal,” Boey added.

“Of course it’s not ideal. We wouldn’t be here if it were,” Celica reminded him.

“...All right. We’ll go do it. But we should  _ probably _ get another sword. We’re four powerful mages, but… magic isn’t everything,” Mae stated.

“Yes, because a mercenary willing to assist us when this problem has  _ clearly _ been festering for a long time is dime a dozen. Which reminds me, we’re also fairly short on dimes,” Boey remarked.

“Well, there is this one fellow…” the old man started.

* * *

 

Celica entered the tavern, a raucous cheer sounding almost immediately. Her hands jumped to her chest, but the patrons were focused on a rather beautiful female singer towards the rear end. Celica blinked, wondering what in particular had enraptured their interest, before scooting along the tables to the man in the rear. His head was in shadow, while a wicked looking sword sat at his side. Celica gulped, before sitting opposite him.

“You are Saber, correct?” Celica asked.

“Correct. And I am talking to…” Saber responded.

“Lady Celica, priestess from Novis. I have been informed you are a skilled swordsman, and I need assistance from such a fighter for a protection job,” Celica told him.

“Guard duty? Not my favourite piece of work, but it’ll do. Where you headed?” Saber asked.

“The Temple of Mila,” Celica told him. Saber let out a cluck.

“That’s awfully far… and I’m not even sure you’ll get off the port. Pirates, remember? Not a soul is going to leave… which is a shame, since this place seems to have run out of alcohol,” Saber growled, picking up his glass and downing whatever it was he was using as a substitute. A passing waitress let out a huff, and Celica decided to ignore the issue.

“I plan to take out the pirates on my way, if that is what is necessary to get to Zofia Harbour. I am already in the company of three fine mages, while I am no slouch myself. I’m sure after that, you’re not exactly scared of facing the brigands?” Celica asked. Saber laughed, and took his feet off the table, sitting upright and putting his face into the light. His left eye was covered by an eyepatch, and much of the rest of his face by scars.

“Trust me lass, I could take on those sea rats myself. What I’m worried about is payment. This is a big risk, and a girl as beautiful as yourself is going to be a prime target for these pirates- I hear Grieth sits atop their food chain. And if any of your mage friends are girls too, that’s only going to increase the danger. What I’m saying is, I’m not coming cheap,” Saber told them.

“Well… I’m afraid cash isn’t at hand, but I do have this,” Celica told him, drawing a golden dagger from her coat. She had been handed it as a thirteenth birthday present, but she didn’t find the thing particularly wieldy in combat.

“A dagger?” Saber asked.

“Will… will that be enough?” Celica asked.

“Well… ordinarily, no. Daggers don’t go for much, and I’m a sword man myself. However… I like your moxie. You also seem the type who’ll be going regardless of whether I join, and well… it wouldn’t feel right if you got captured because I stuck around here listening to the same few songs and the same godforsaken cheer over and over again… I’m in,” Saber remarked. Celica let out a small cheer, and rushed to tell the others. Saber picked up the dagger again.

“And this dagger… boy, this is pretty expensive. I wonder what else this little lass has that she doesn’t know the value of… other than her life, of course, but that’s not going to sell to the right people,” Saber remarked.

“I dunno… you could probably get a lot for her if you take her to Barth,” one of the drunks suggested. Saber looked at him with a particularly unpleasant glare.

* * *

 

With the promise of Saber accompanying them on their travels, the bravest sailor of the bunch jumped at the chance to have Celica on board, and helped the four make themselves comfortable as they waited for the boat to be ready to sail. Celica and Mae sat at the boat’s prow, looking out over the waters, while Boey and Genny were further behind, an apprehensive feeling set over them.

“Are you sure about this, Celica?” Boey asked.

“Of course not. But there is no choice in the matter,” Celica reminded him.

“Why couldn’t the king run those pirates out?” Genny asked in annoyance.

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly horrible explanation for it. After all, Celica’s with us,” Mae told her, in a way that would utterly befuddle any sailor that happened to overhear. The four mages knew why Celica being on Novis was a symptom of poor leadership at Castle Zofia, but none of them wanted to linger on the matter whenever it was brought up, though it had been many times at Novis itself.

“...But we’re finally leaving Novis with Celica! I’ve been waiting  _ years _ for this!” Mae exclaimed.

“Glad someone’s excited,” Boey remarked.

“Yeah… I’m just anxious. There’s so much we don’t know… about the pirates, about Mila… about Alm…” Celica bemoaned.

“Alm? Well, hopefully Silque got him the Turnwheel. Hopefully he remembers to use it in times of peril,” Mae observed.

“Hopefully  _ we _ remember to use the Turnwheel,” Boey stated. Celica brought her hand to it, sensing something on the horizon… the inside of a dungeon… the Temple of Mila in ruin… an evil Temple… Alm rushing towards her with a large sword…

“Hopefully…” Celica whispered, turning to keep the tears from showing to the mages. But somehow, she couldn’t escape the feeling that  _ something _ was going to go wrong…

“Approaching boat ahead!” a sailor called. Celica rushed to the prow, and saw the rough-looking boat approaching. She almost welcomed the sight- she was beginning to wonder if they’d slip by the pirates completely, and do nothing for the civilians who would encounter them. The sailors prepared to accept the boarding, as Saber readied his sword. Celica and Boey felt the fire burning within them, while Mae looked at the approaching ship. She clapped her hands, causing a thunderbolt to drop upon them. Genny gave her a high five, before the bandits sailed beside them. The lightning bolt’s scorch mark appeared to have made no impact.

“...Ah well, it was a long shot,” Mae observed.

“Well well well… looks like we got ourselves some hostiles…” one of the bandits chuckled.

“Your reign of terror over this sea is over. I’d tell you to let Barth know, but I think your corpse will send the message just fine,” Saber taunted.

“Saber. I hear you went killing drunks. I don’t think your word will mean much,” the bandit responded.

“You did what?” Celica asked.

“The man told me you’d sell well. I thought he was with Barth,” Saber told her, puzzled.

“Well… he’s not wrong, at any rate. Body like that, I reckon she’s the most valuable thing on board!” the bandit chuckled. Mae shot a fireball at him, and he fell back into the ocean. Another bandit came up to replace him.

“A feisty girl… and one of the cute ones? This is a jackpot! Killing Saber and capturing three girls that hit different nieces!” the bandit proclaimed.

“Niches,” Boey corrected on instinct.

“That’s what I said,” the bandit called. An arrow came from overhead, and Celica’s fireball reduced its impact. The bandits began a charge. Saber stepped to block one of their boarding planks, sparring the bandits one by one. The other plank was taken care of by Mae, her thunderbolts dropping bandits like nobody’s business.

“Well, hell… you’d think I’d know better…” Saber remarked. Boey turned to him in shock- an arrow was protruding from his back.

“GENNY!” Boey called. He began firing fireballs across to the bandits that had been bottlenecked by Saber’s efforts, but they were coming faster than he was launching fire. Boey growled, and lunged into the mess, swiping Celica’s dagger from Saber’s belt. He thrust it into a few brigand’s stomachs, until Genny’s arrival distracted them enough to allow him to extricate himself. He blinked, realising Genny was grabbed by one of the brigands. He turned, to find a brigands’ boat to their rear, where Celica was launching fireballs.

“CELICA! THE TURNWHEEL!” Boey called. Celica nodded, fumbling for the thing. The cord holding it around her neck snapped, and Celica’s failed attempt to get it turned caused her to drop it. Boey dived for it, grabbing it just before it fell off the boat. He looked at the face, confused as to how to activate it.

“Nobody move!” a bandit called. All action stopped, as Celica, Mae and Boey turned to see Genny at axepoint. Boey gasped. That was his doing…

“Why you…” Mae called. Boey felt something in his eye… a faint vision… of him on a boat approaching the pirates’ fortress… accompanied by…

“Mae… I…” Celica started to sob.

“Don’t tell me…” Mae cried, but Celica’s nod stopped her from continuing.

“Very nice…” the brigand chuckled. A few hurried forward, twine in hand, and Boey realised he was overlooked. He felt the Turnwheel, and realised what he had to do.

“So what are you lot going to do with poor me and my lack-of-breasts?” Boey asked, slowly edging along the boat towards the boarding planks. The brigands looked between each other.

“Kill him,” a brigand ordered.

“No!” Celica cried, but Boey was quicker. He fell off the boarding plank, an arrow aimed for him passing by harmlessly. Nearby brigands looked overboard, to see Boey thrashing in the waves.

“Doesn’t look like he can swim,” a brigand chuckled.

“Excellent… get the three girls on board. But do nothing else. Don’t forget what happened last time we captured a girl,” the brigand who captured Genny ordered.

“What was that?” one of the brigands asked.

“Haiman?” another responded, and all the brigands let out a yelp. Celica looked between Mae and Genny, as the only one still smiling.


	8. Brigands' Fortress

The bandits’ ship arrived on the pirates’ stronghold island, and the bandits led Celica, Mae and Genny into the rather large keep. Celica was looking around the place carefully for potential tools to make an escape, and surmised the stronghold was probably stolen. She turned towards Mae, who was barely conscious- the pirates had to give her several strikes to stop her firing magic everywhere. It also didn’t help her that she couldn’t use magic without draining herself.

“Well well well…” a gravelly voice called. Celica turned forward, to see a brigand much like his companions standing before them. Rough, wiry hair all over their body and a mere shirt and shorts to cover themselves left little room for variation, and Celica was hard pressed to believe this particular bandit was any different than one of the ones she saw on the two ships.

But no, this was Barth.

“Barth… piracy is no way to live your life. Surely there are honest jobs to take that could lead to a less painful death?” Celica asked. Barth blinked in shock, while Mae and Genny tried their hardest not to let Celica hear them groan.

“Quite courageous, aren’t you? Lady, you must be new at this. Honest work is for losers- you get a lot more money in the pirate career. And you’ll find a lot of men who’d like a lot of money,” Barth told her.

“Foolish endeavour…” Celica muttered.

“Ooh… did your mommy tell you being nice was reward in itself? The true value of something lies within? Well, I’m afraid being nice doesn’t put good food in my belly,” Barth told her.

“You will regret kidnapping me. If I do not reach the Temple of Mila, Zofia could find itself without any of her bounty left. No food but fish, nothing coming easily. If you sell us here, you could very well find yourself without any more fresh bodies ever again,” Celica told him. Barth smiled.

“Well, I guess I’d better squeeze every Gold Mark out of you three that I can,” Barth told her. “Boys, get a gag on her and prepare her for my preparations. Throw the other girls in the dungeon.”

“Celica!” Mae exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, Mae… Boey’s still out there,” Celica assured her, before the cloth went between her teeth. Mae looked at Genny.

“We’re doomed,” Genny muttered, her head dropping.

* * *

 

Boey slowed down his swim, dropping to a general tread to conserve energy. He looked around, hoping to find an island or a boat soon. He knew he needed to conserve some energy to fire a few fireballs as a flare, and he was worried he was reaching his limit. He took in a breath. He had to save Mae, Celica and Genny. And the Turnwheel showed him this idea would work.

A boat. Boey saw a boat a last. He had to get them to notice him. He fired his first fireball, feeling the energy draining from his fingertips as he did. The fireball went quite low over the ocean, dissipating in the water. Boey tried a second shot, the fire flying high in the sky before letting out a burst. He dodged some of the fire as it fell, and noticed the boat was turning. Boey fired a third fireball, feeling his energy start to ebb. He focused on treading the water, seeing the boat draw nearer and nearer. He swam to one side, and noticed an archer peering off the side of the boat, looking for him.

“Help!” Boey called. The archer threw something overboard, and Boey grabbed a hold of it. He felt the last of his energy come to pass as the object moved underneath him, and he hoped he’d find himself on board.

* * *

 

Mae found herself crying. Boey was dead, a sacrifice she felt he didn’t have to make, and with him went Mila’s Turnwheel. Celica was being… well, whatever it was, Mae knew that it was meant to be her duty to prevent it, and it was also her personal goal to be the one to do it personally. She looked up at Genny, whose blank stare was starting to worry Mae. Of course, poor Genny was bound to be the most affected, but if Mae wanted Genny’s help in achieving any of her plans, she’d need to be a little more reactionary.

“...I wonder if…” Mae started, before the thought repulsed her. She took a mental note of the plan, but knew that the idea of  _ letting _ herself get sold and trying to use the new master to get to the Temple of Mila was her ultimate back up plan. She growled, feeling her magic bubble back to the surface. She went to melt her cell’s door, before thinking twice. The element of surprise remained a dangerous weapon in her toolkit, and she’d have only one shot of making an escape before the pirates paid close attention to her and her magical capabilities. But finding the right opportunity in this cell with no sense of surroundings…

“Come along, girlie,” a brigand’s voice called, and Celica was dragged down into the dungeon. Mae was surprised at how fairly neat and clean her body was, even if her clothes had been completely removed. However, the tears staining her face showed pain enough. Mae knew she wasn’t going to leave this place without a lot of blood on her hands, and she was determined to make it the bandits’.

“Get in there,” the brigand ordered, throwing Celica into the cell next door. Mae tried to shuffle closer to the wall between them, before tipping over. Another reason not to bother with the escape yet.

“You’re next,” the brigand’s voice echoed in her ear, and she realised with a start that he meant  _ her _ . Mae went to scream, but a large cloth was stuffed in her mouth, and another wrapped around her head to keep it in. Mae blinked, remembering Celica hadn’t been gagged so thoroughly, before realising that the brigands  _ knew _ she was a fighter.

They weren’t going to go as easy on her as they did with Celica.

* * *

 

Boey found himself sleeping on a deck. It took a little time, and knocking some water out of his ears, before he remembered exactly what had happened prior. A man knelt before him, studying him intently.

“So just who are you?” he asked. Boey felt a shudder overcome him.

“Might I ask that you introduce yourself first, if it’s not too much trouble? My… everything is a bit touchy, and I need to make sure I know who I’m dealing with,” Boey told him, flinching a little as he said that. The thought of Mae, tied up and beaten, pervaded through his mind more than the thought of Mila.

“Hm… yes, you did have some interesting artefacts on you when you got fished up. Very well… my name is Leon, and I’m a wandering archer. Here, though, I serve Valbar, in his attempt to storm the pirate king’s fortress and avenge the loss of his family,” Leon told him.

“That’s a relief to hear. The name’s Boey, of Novis. I’m looking for men to help me sack the pirate king’s fortress, and what do you know, I find a crew already doing it,” Boey laughed. Leon beamed.

“Well, we’re relieved you’re a good boy at heart too. Though how did you wind up swimming?” Leon asked.

“I serve the Lady Celica, who was headed to the Temple of Mila to investigate why Mila’s bounty is leaving Zofia. Unfortunately, our retinue was not strong enough to overcome the pirates’ numbers, and the girls got captured to be sold. Saber died, while I was a bit luckier and could jump overboard with Mila’s Turnwheel and the Beloved Zofia,” Boey explained. Leon nodded vaguely.

“Looks like your goddess got you to safety. You could’ve drowned!” Leon told him.

“If I had stayed, I’d have been beheaded. Or stabbed. Either way, at least by going overboard I had a chance, even if it was a slim one,” Boey remarked. His eyes widened, and he checked his person. He found Mila’s Turnwheel around his neck and the Beloved Zofia, Celica’s dagger, at his hip.

“Fair point. All right, we’ll help you get your friends back,” Leon told him. Boey smiled, and got to his feet. He prepared a practice fireball, allowing it to dissipate once it had grown.

“Mae… please be all right…” Boey whispered.

* * *

 

_ The brigand keeled over, flames licking across his foul hair, as Boey pushed past to reach Genny. Genny smiled into the cloth in her mouth… _

A cloth? Or would she be gagged like Mae? She did hear they wanted to sell her on cuteness appeal, so she’d probably get a gag like Celica’s.

_ As Boey sat beside her on the bed, stroking the side of her face. _

_ “It’s going to be all right, Genny…” Boey told her, pulling the gag free. _

Would Boey kiss her? Genny had her doubts… the way the clerics treated him every time Celica gave him affection would probably have stunted him, and whenever she caught him looking in love, it was always Mae that was the target of his affections. To him, Genny was probably just a younger sister- beloved, but there probably wouldn’t be a kiss.

_ Boey shuffled across to her arms, tugging the knots free with his strong arms and a hint of fire, careful not to start big ones that couldn’t be extinguished. Genny pulled her wrists apart at long last, getting them moving to shake the numbness out. _

Would her arms go to her breasts, hiding them from Boey? Again, her predisposition to the dashing hero saving the damsel in distress and the two sharing a romantic, physical connection was biasing her thoughts. She idly considered penning the fantasy of Mae being rescued by Boey- after all, the classic conventions would apply much more smoothly- before realising that Mae was much different from her, and would probably throw several verbal barbs at him even as he came to her rescue.

And after all, the exercise was supposed to get her to calm down, and to help her escape the terror of actually being captured. She knew, once she got out of this, there would need to be serious revision to the way she handled damsels in her stories.

Genny blinked, and looked up. Mae was being dragged to her cell- quite literally. Mae’s body was covered with cuts and bruises, but unlike Celica, her eyes were still alight with the fire of rebellion. Genny admired the girl’s spirit, but couldn’t help but feel scared for herself. Sure, she was being sold on the merit of her cuteness, but would they need to beat  _ her _ , too? Perhaps she might even be spared the treatment  _ Celica _ got… was that wishful thinking, on her part?

_ The brigands approached her, leers on their faces, as her cell door opened. Genny huddled in the back corner, tears combing down her face. It was her turn to be gagged, her turn to be dragged away… her turn to be examined by Barth, and a start on her preparation made. Genny shivered. Were the bandits right? Was Boey a poor swimmer, drowned, taking Mila’s Turnwheel with him to the ocean’s depths? Or was she right? Was Boey foxing, swimming away to find help? Would Boey find help, and come to her rescue? _

Genny didn’t want to spare a thought to her situation. All her mental energies were devoted to considering her reaction to Boey’s rescue. Rescuing the damsel in distress was the exciting part… she had to live up to that.

* * *

 

Boey looked at the pirate’s stronghold with apprehension. Mae was in there… Celica and Genny, too. And they were all counting on his gambit to work. Valbar had only himself, Leon the archer, and Kamui a mercenary. Boey coldly realised that Celica had  _ five _ fighters against fewer pirates on even terrain… and now Boey wanted to attack them on their home turf, with  _ four _ fighters. And none of them had Genny’s white magic.

“You worried?” Kamui asked. Boey nodded, his skin turning a very pale shade of brown. He gulped, thinking about Mae again. The girl would never forgive him if he turned back now. Granted, she wasn’t likely to forgive him even if he did succeed, but the thought of seeing her safe again was enough to motivate him.

“Relax. Your girls will come out of this all right. We’re professionals, and these guys are just lousy lowlifes,” Kamui boasted. Boey nodded.

“Mae…” Boey muttered.

“No, we  _ will _ . That’s a guarantee,” Kamui told him.

“And if you fail, at least you’ll be too dead to feel my wrath?” Boey asked.

“If we fail, you’ll be too dead to be angry,” Kamui responded. Boey chuckled.

“I needed that laugh…” Boey told him. The boat shuddered, as Valbar hit the shore.

“We ready?” Valbar asked gruffly, adjusting his armour. Leon nodded. Kamui gave a jerk of his head. Boey breathed deeply before nodding.

“Then we charge,” Valbar called. He jumped off the boat, bracing his legs for impact. Leon and Kamui slid down ropes to land much more gracefully, while Boey attempted to slow his fall by creating wind. Far too late, Boey realised he wasn’t nearly practiced enough at non-combat magic to succeed. The three mercenaries charged, Boey following at a slightly slower pace. Determination made up for what he hoped were merely  _ aching _ bones.

“ATTACK!” a gravelly brigand’s voice called. Boey moaned. His hope began to diminish. Unless…

Boey entered the brigand’s stronghold, to see Valbar, Leon and Kamui engaged with the brigands. Boey slung a fireball into a knot of bandits, being careful to conserve his energy. He could only shoot fireballs so many times, and the landing he endured had to have cut into that. Boey scanned the place, looking for brigands coming and going. Especially going. One of them was headed through one passage in particular, one that was definitely going down.

“I’m gonna follow him,” Boey stated, shooting a pair of fireballs to open a path to that brigand. He had to be going to the dungeons… and the girls could very well be in a position to fight using sheer willpower and fury. At the least, he could nab them and run. Valbar’s vengeance wouldn’t be satisfied, but they could regroup and try again another day.

* * *

 

Celica looked up, hearing the footsteps of an approaching brigand much louder than usual. Something had scared him. Such a thing could only be good in her eyes, the terror she had felt as he abused her being only too recent. She hoped dearly for a rescue… Barth had told her there was someone who had already promised a handsome payment if they could secure the girl with the Brand of Zofia, and it’s not like Celica could’ve hid it.

“Girlie… if I’m going to get one of you three, it’s going to be you…” Barth rasped, opening her cell door. That, paired with the sound of someone else coming down the stairs, told her this was a rescue. Celica felt elated, but knew she had to work on her contribution. Her magic was still weak, but if she could start a fire, she could help her rescuer.

“Don’t move a step closer,” Barth’s voice echoed. Celica blinked, realising that an axe was being held to her throat, and Boey was standing before her. Fire was at his fingertips, but all three of them knew that Barth would be quicker. Celica’s tears began anew. After all her hope, today was going to be the day it was crushed completely. Boey’s fire dissipated, and Boey bowed his head. Barth nodded, lowering the axe, and pushing Celica aside. The next moment, a lightning bolt had struck Barth, dropping him to the ground. Celica looked to Boey, who was just now looking back up.

“Good shot, Mae,” Boey claimed, and Celica immediately understood. Boey rushed to her, untying her arms and taking out her gag before immediately looking around for the cell keys. Celica realised he wanted to get Mae free, and got to work untying her legs herself.

“Well done, Boey,” Celica told him. Boey smiled, trying not to look at her as he searched.

* * *

 

Valbar grunted, feeling the weight of numbers begin to overwhelm his defences. His armour was pretty tough, but every strike seemed to wear him down. He grunted, and turned to Kamui, who was hardly faring better. Scrapes were showing on his bared arms and legs, and Valbar could tell this was starting to slow him down.

“We’ve gotta fall back…” Leon remarked. Even as an archer, he had his fair share of scrapes- then again, it wasn’t like Valbar and Kamui could defend him from all angles.

“What about the mage?” Valbar asked.

“If it means you remain alive, Valbar, I’d accept the loss,” Leon told him. Kamui turned to face him.

“You’re a bit of a jerk, you know?” Kamui asked.

“Well, the kid knew that sometimes, it comes down to die here or take your chances elsewhere,” Leon retorted. A pillar of flame appeared from behind the brigands, and the knot of unwashed rogues turned hurriedly to the rear. Celica stood before them, her body uncovered, but a ferocity in her expression that gave the brigands pause.

“Your leader is dead. You’ve got anywhere between two and four angry mages ready to incinerate you from here, and a force of mercenaries on your other side. This is your one chance to surrender,” Celica ordered. Boey ran up the stairs, carrying an unconscious Mae in his arms, while Genny rode on his back. Turns out it would be two.

“...Get them,” one of the brigands ordered.

“I’m not about to stop here!” Celica yelled, throwing her hands forward. An outright inferno blossomed from her fingertips, blasting the closest brigands into ash and the further ones were merely set alight. The fire quickly reached the tapestries and bricks, and Celica’s magical fire turned to a physical, destructive one.

“That works,” Boey remarked. Celica started swaying a little, and Kamui darted forward to scoop her up.

“We’d better get back to the boat,” Kamui stated. Boey nodded, trying to push Genny further up his back as he ran with him. His legs started screaming in pain, and he felt Mae slipping in his arms. He looked up at Valbar, who picked Genny off his back and into his own arms. Boey smiled, and paused to adjust his grip on Mae. He started running again, feeling much better about his chances to get on board the boat.

* * *

 

The four men arrived at the foot of the boat, and Leon clambered aboard to throw down a boarding ramp. Valbar stepped on, torn between hustling and risking destroying the ramp. His decision was made harder by a small knot of brigands hustling out of the keep.

“Celica, Mae?” Boey asked. Celica stirred vaguely, but there was no way she was going for an encore. Boey set Mae down on the ground, and prepared his own firestorm.

“It’s over!” Boey called, a hint of fear in his voice, and shot the flames forward. They went nowhere near as far as Celica’s did, and didn’t burn the bandits nearly as badly.

“Out of the way! Have some of this!” Boey called, firing twin fireballs instead. While they did eliminate some bandits, others remained approaching.

“NOW I’M MAD!” Mae called from behind Boey. Boey leaped to one side on instinct, as Mae’s lightning strikes cleaved down on the foremost bandits.

“EAT THIS, PAL!” Mae added, revolving on the spot before sending a cascade of flames, shooting well beyond the initial strike. Boey stared at her impressively, watching as she prepared another magical spell, before noticing her first two had done the trick, and the one remaining brigand had decide to return to the burning building. Mae starting dropping again, and Boey grabbed her.

“How are you going, Valbar?” Boey asked.

“I’m up, Boey,” Valbar called. Boey scooped up Mae, and followed Kamui up the boarding ramp. Leon pulled it up, and Boey shot a blast of wind. The boat pulled away from the dock, and Kamui was quick to rush up and take control of the helm, helping steer the boat away from the fortress as it came down.


	9. Road to Recovery

Celica sat upright, looking around at her surroundings. She was on a boat, something that didn’t quite make sense to her, before she remembered Boey having come to her rescue. She shivered, thinking about how naturally the thought of captivity came to her, before looking down. She was still naked, but a fine blanket had been pushed around her, allowing her modesty and warmth. She turned to either side, seeing Mae and Genny sleeping beside her in a similar situation, before her eyes rested on Mae. Though the blanket lovingly wrapped around her hid her body, Celica could still see the cut along her cheek, her black eye and a large bruise across her neck. Celica brought her arm across to hug Mae.

“Celica,” Boey’s voice called. Celica looked up, to see Boey sitting by the mast, looking their way. Having noticed her awaken, he stood and walked over to them, finding his seat on the planks.

“Boey… you did well,” Celica told him.

“Thanks, Celica… but…” Boey started, looking at Mae. Celica felt some tears well up inside her as well.

“How bad is she?” Celica asked. Boey bit his lip, looking away from her.

“...So where are we going?” Celica asked, to choose a less painful question.

“The Seabound Shrine. We’re hoping the Mila statue can clear up your physical hurts and soothe your mental ones. It’s not going to make you completely OK, and I respect that… but hopefully, it’ll mean we can press on and not have to literally drag you back to the priory,” Boey told her.

“That’s plenty fine work, Boey,” Celica told him. Mae started squirming, and Celica placed an arm on her, exposing her breast as she did so. Boey immediately looked away.

“...Are you all right, Boey?” Celica asked.

“Fine. Just… the clerics from the priory kinda…” Boey started. Celica nodded, and pulled up her blanket with her other hand.

“I’m so sorry… it must’ve been really hard for you…” Celica muttered.

“Well… after what you’ve been through, I certainly can’t complain, but…” Boey remarked. He took the time to check on Genny- her deep breathing and intermittent thrashes made her seem asleep.

* * *

 

Mae awoke next, while Boey was off elsewhere. She tried to rise, but one of her bruises stopped her, and she resigned herself to staying on the floor.

“Wow, you  _ definitely _ need to see Mother Mila,” Celica told her. Mae would’ve jumped if she could, the shock of seeing Celica all right, for the most part, stunning her.

“How did…” Mae asked.

“I don’t know… Boey came in with some mercenaries, grabbed us, and then I think we let out a primal magical backlash as they left?” Celica told her. Mae looked over, and noticed Boey talking with an archer.

“Boey survived? But… I didn’t know he could swim!” Mae remarked.

“Then perhaps it was the Mother’s doing. He  _ did _ have the Turnwheel, after all,” Celica pointed out. Mae giggled slightly, inching slightly towards Celica. Celica took the hint, and propped her up into her lap. Pain shot through some of the bruises Celica brushed against, but somehow, a greater pleasure followed closely behind. Mae smiled, feeling Celica move her closer in.

“Celica… I love you,” Mae blurted out, drawing comfort from Celica’s embrace.

“I love you too, Mae. You’re a sweet girl… I’ll keep you safe,” Celica told her. Mae tried to push her head against Celica’s, but her wounds stopped her getting too close. Celica blinked, and stroked her hair.

“Celica…” Mae muttered.

* * *

 

Kamui landed the boat on the Seabound Shrine, and Boey looked across the field leading into the cavern. She shot a blast of fire into the air, and nothing appeared to stir. He nodded, and turned to the girls.

“We should be fine to get you to the statue. Not sure what’ll happen exactly, but I don’t think it’ll be too dangerous. Hopefully,” Boey remarked.

“It’s fine, Boey. Anything is fine,” Celica assured him. She got to her feet uncertainly, while Mae and Genny were scooped up by Boey and Valbar. Celica looked down uncertainly at her still naked body.

“I’ve got some spares for you three to borrow. Didn’t really want to bring it up while some of you were in no shape to get dressed,” Leon remarked. Celica turned to him, before her eyes brushed past Mae. She understood immediately what Leon meant by ‘no shape to get dressed’.

“Then I suppose we better get going,” Celica remarked, stepping onto the landing plank, and swaying slightly. Kamui came to her side, and took her hand. Celica smiled, before looking forward at the rough pebbles on the beach.

“Do you have shoes, at least?” Celica asked. Leon blinked, before realising her problem.

“...Sadly, no,” he remarked. Celica looked at the ground again, debating whether to bother Kamui with a request to be picked up, before Kamui did it anyway.

“Kamui!” Celica called.

“I don’t think you’ll last to the cave before the pain gets too great, and that would be  _ before _ the wounds Barth gave you. I don’t mind the effort,” Kamui assured her.

“Um… thank you, Kamui. I just…” Celica stuttered out. Kamui smiled.

“Say no more, don’t blame you, and I can sense your feelings in that regard anyway. Rest assured I’m not looking at your private parts anyway,” Kamui remarked. Celica looked up at Kamui’s face, and noticed that Kamui indeed had his eyes clenched tight.

“Why do you keep your eyes shut, anyway?” Celica asked.

“To make life a bit more exciting. Don’t worry, I still know the way,” Kamui assured her, as he made his way up the beach. Sure enough, Celica noticed him scanning the path before him, though if it was not with his eyes, Celica wasn’t sure what he  _ was _ using.

* * *

 

Kamui and Leon led the way through the Seabound Shrine, on the lookout for enemies before Boey and Valbar, the more vulnerable men, had to pass by. Any revenants that popped up were easily shot down by Leon, which was honestly more startling to the group than a horde of monsters. But as they entered the chamber of the Mila Shrine, they found themselves grateful. Any sudden ambush would be more easily fended off.

“Mother Mila, gaze upon your children, and bless them with the gifts of recovery,” Boey muttered at the statue’s base, causing light to blossom from it and over the girls. They stirred and shivered, and Boey smiled at the statue’s base.

“Thank you, Mother,” Boey whispered, turning to face the girls at rest. He heard an odd shriek from behind him, and dropped to the ground, something overcoming him.

“BOEY!” Celica cried out. She looked up, and saw a massive revenant looming over him. She tore the blanket aside and let out a blast of flame, roaring impressively over the beast… before dissipating. The revenant was still there, with a nauseating grin on its face. Celica’s heart dropped, and turned to Boey. Boey was thrashing on the floor, sweating, but Celica could tell he was having some sort of vision from the goddess. She wasn’t sure whether she should be annoyed at that.

“Boys?” Celica asked, turning to the mercenaries. Leon tried a shot, only for the arrow to not do anything even buried deep within its stomach. Valbar made to approach, but Kamui stopped him. Celica raised an eyebrow, before hearing an incantation she had never heard before, much less coming from Boey. Celica turned, in time to see a purple blast of magic come from Boey, sending rings of purple light to surround the beast. With a loud burst, the lights faded, as did the revenant itself. Boey grunted, and Celica rushed to grab a hold of him before he knocked himself out in the fall.

“Are you all right, Boey?” Celica asked.

“Yeah… just… just trying to make sense of that vision…” Boey told her.

“What was the vision about?” Celica asked, lowering Boey into a restful position.

“I saw this girl… she was beautiful, and what Mila showed me of her showed that off. Such a pretty smile… and her spellwork… I guess I tried mimicking the spell, huh?” Boey remarked. Celica turned towards where the revenant had come from.

“I suppose that explains it. Though why you were shown this girl is a question unto itself, I don’t think that’s going to get an answer from you,” Celica remarked. Boey laughed, and blinked, clearing his vision. He blinked again, before turning away. Celica looked down, and reminded herself she was still naked.

“Leon, did you bring the clothes?” Celica asked. Leon pulled out the bundle, and Celica quickly draped a random dress over her head. Wondering where it had come from, she came back to Boey, who was much more at ease with Celica clothed.

“Thanks… you’re a pleasure to work with, milady. After the clerics, it’s basically the only reason I even bother,” Boey remarked. Celica stroked his hair, feeling the hurt in his voice.

“I’m… I’m sorry for…” Celica started.

“Don’t be. You did nothing wrong…” Boey assured her.

“Except continue to invoke their ire. I guess I had assumed they’d understand that’s how I was, but…” Celica told him. Boey looked down.

“Celica, don’t. You forget I’m an orphan. That’s the entire reason I was brought to the priory. Those hugs made me feel like I had a family…” Boey told her.

“Could you two lighten up a little?” Mae asked. Celica and Boey looked up, to see her limping towards them, naked, but with a set of clothes from Leon under her arm. Boey smiled.

“Well, how about this one? I’ve no idea why the clerics were trying to keep me from Celica when  _ you’re _ much cuter?” Boey asked.

“...Well done, but I was thinking somewhere  _ completely _ different,” Mae told him, before pulling the clothes out. “Speaking of, Celica, could you give me a hand?”

“Of course, Mae,” Celica told her, standing to help Mae. Boey resentfully observed the two work, especially how little Mae seemed hurt outside of her legs. He took in a breath, trying to cast the benefit of the doubt. She had come from being black and blue all over, and even the goddess couldn’t fix that perfectly.

But still, when Celica’s hand brushed against Mae’s breast, he thought the two seemed much too happy about it.

* * *

 

Valbar smiled as he watched the three mages talking amongst themselves, trying not to think about the family he had lost. He knew his life once the mages had left his care at Zofia was a complete mystery, if it even lasted long afterwards.

“Um, Mr Valbar?” Genny asked. Valbar looked up, to see her dressed and blushing. Valbar let out a smile, and held up an arm.

“Come, little one. Let’s have a talk,” Valbar remarked. To his surprise, Genny took her seat on his lap, pulling herself into his arms.

“...You seem…” Valbar remarked.

“...It’s just what happens when you get captured by bandits. I hope,” Genny told him. Valbar smiled, stroking her back.

“Better than dying to them, at least,” Valbar idly remarked.

“I dunno… at least I wouldn’t suffer in death. One clean cut and it’s over… and then I’m in Mother Mila’s arms…” Genny pointed out.

“But what about your family? What would happen to them if you died?” Valbar asked. Genny sobbed.

“I don’t have a family… the closest people I have to are those three, my brother and sisters. I…” Genny told him.

“...I’m sorry… I lost my family to pirates. I… I guess I didn’t want anyone else to go through that,” Valbar told her. Genny looked up at him.

“...Can… can we start our own family?” Genny asked. Valbar jumped.

“...What do you mean?” Valbar asked. Genny started blushing again.

“W-We both lost our family, right? So… so we could make a family together, with… well…” Genny stammered out. Valbar smiled.

“Well, it does sound lovely, but… I’d let the idea take some time. It is a nice idea, though…” Valbar told her. Genny nodded, remaining in Valbar’s arms.

* * *

 

After the rest in the Seabound Shrine, the group was ready to move out back to the boat. And their trip through the shrine itself didn’t even have token revenants to hassle the trip. Of course, everyone was largely relieved that the girls were on the road to physical recovery, so they overlooked the underlying message in said absence.

At least, until the appearance of a necrodragon between them and the boat on the shore.

“...Is that dangerous?” Boey asked quietly. The necrodragon didn’t appear to have noticed them, and that was of immense comfort to everyone. They didn’t want to invoke its ire if not necessary.

“Extremely. Most dangerous monster you’ll tend to find in Valentia,” Leon told him.

“Not necessarily. Other breeds of monster are known to be more dangerous. The necrodragon gains its reputation for the fact even its weakest breeds are several times stronger than the dracul or bonewalker, and the gods themselves are said to be of the dragon family,” Kamui recited. Leon turned to him.

“Of course, I am not looking at a necrodragon right now…” Kamui started.

“You’re not looking at anything!” Celica pointed out exasperatedly.

“Shut up and let me have this,” Kamui told her, slinking backwards slightly as the necrodragon turned in their direction.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake…” Mae groaned. She summoned a bolt of lightning to crash down on the necrodragon’s hide. The creature howled in agony, and whipped its head around in search of the source of the lightning. Celica grabbed Mae’s mouth, and everyone stood as still as possible. Genny shuddered, and tried an Invoke spell, creating a batch of knights. The necrodragon’s head whipped in her direction.

“...The necrodragon is moving away… the necrodragon is moving away…” Kamui muttered. The necrodragon charged in their direction, ignoring Boey’s Aura and Mae’s Thunder spells. Celica focused, and fired a Seraphim spell. The blast knocked her to the ground, and fazed the necrodragon. However, the beast still seemed prepared for an attack, despite the efforts of Genny’s Knights. Mae looked between it and Celica, and focused. She held out her hands, and cast the Seraphim spell. The bolt of white magic pierced the hide Celica’s spell had weakened, sending the necrodragon onto its back, while doing the same to Mae. Kamui and Boey quickly scooped up the girls, and darted past the necrodragon. Valbar grabbed the petrified Genny, and he and Leon followed suit. The necrodragon thrashed around, trying to reach the escaping prey, before Kamui set Celica down. Celica focused her spirit, and shot a blast of Seraphim at the necrodragon, dispatching it.

“Hopefully no one else falls into your trap, foul beast,” Celica stated, before spinning around to try and find Mae.

“...Hopefully you don’t have friends,” Kamui added, searching the beach for the sight of more necrodragons. He chose to believe he found none, despite the boat’s launch and subsequent clatter and rumble disrupting his primary senses.


	10. Don't Misunderstand Me

Genny was seated behind the wheel, watching the three men steer in turn, infatuated with Valbar in particular. Indeed, Valbar would frequently stop by and make sure she felt comfortable on board. However, Genny was quite surprised to see Leon approach her during one of Valbar’s turns, looking somewhat displeased.

“Listen… I know you’re still all traumatised, little lass, but I’m worried about how attached you are to Valbar,” Leon told her.

“Hi, Leon,” Genny told him, shaking him. Leon sat down, and watched Valbar with her for a few moments.

“Listen… I heard you want to start a family with Valbar… and I think I know how you mean, even if he doesn’t,” Leon told her.

“He’s just… so tough, and so gentle…” Genny stated.

“And  _ much _ too old for you. You’re, like, twelve, and-” Leon began.

“ _ Fifteen, _ Leon,” Genny told him.

“Much better. He’s in his  _ thirties _ . I don’t know what they taught you at that priory of yours, but I don’t think they’d approve of you looking to Valbar as a romantic interest,” Leon told her.

“...And why should I care about their opinion? I like older men, and that’s just me,” Genny told him, looking down in worry. Leon put an arm around her.

“...Just don’t be disappointed if Valbar agrees with me,” Leon stated. Genny hiccoughed.

* * *

 

Celica breathed in the sight of the mainland, setting foot here for the first time in years. Valbar docked the ship, and the four mages disembarked, turning up to the crew.

“Well…” Valbar started, unsure how to continue.

“Are you lot coming with us?” Celica asked. Valbar jumped, turning to Leon and Kamui.

“You know, I don’t recall ever promising to do so…” Leon observed.

“Hm… on one hand, I’m getting pretty invested in this journey. On the other… I kinda need my money to feel motivated,” Kamui remarked. Genny sighed.

“I guess this is goodbye, Mr Valbar,” Genny told him, looking up at him cutely. Valbar smiled.

“I guess I’m in the same boat as Kamui. Pack your bags, boys, we’re making sure this lot don’t run into any more trouble,” Valbar announced. Kamui raced away, while Leon seemed less certain.

“Leon, what’s wrong?” Valbar asked.

“I just… the small one loves you, you know?” Leon told him.

“I know. That’s why I can’t leave them. Not until I’ve got this sorted. I mean… what other family do I have?” Valbar asked. Leon looked down, feeling uncertain of himself in the face of that question.

* * *

 

Celica took in the surroundings outside the village, Mae, Boey and Genny accompanying her. Valbar’s crew was going for supplies, and Boey was going to ensure the three girls didn’t get captured  _ again _ before they were done, to Mae’s annoyance. However, as a figure lurched from the forest, she started to think Boey had a point.

“The girl…” the figure muttered, holding out a gnarled hand. Boey stood before the three girls, practicing the Aura spell. Celica had Seraphim prepared, and Mae Thunder.

“Do you think to fight is wise? Hand over the girl and you will not be harmed… here,” the cantor told them.

“Which girl?” Boey asked, knowing their goal was Celica, but not being open to giving him the opening if he could avoid it.

“...You can’t be this stupid, can you?” the cantor hissed. Boey fired a blast of Aura, only for the cantor to disappear.

“You rely upon the magic of another, mortal…” the cantor taunted.

“Yeah, like you don’t. You barely look like you’re doing  _ anything _ under your own power!” Mae fired back, her bolt of lightning missing the cantor by a hair.

“Give me the girl, wench...” the cantor muttered.

“Yeah, I’ve failed to keep her safe one too many times already. Not gonna happen,” Mae told her. She grabbed Celica’s hand with her right, and held her left hand forward. Celica took the hint, and held out her right hand, the Brand of Zofia glowing on her palm. The two looked between each other, a knowing expression on her face.

“On three…” Celica started, before Mae clasped her hand. Celica noticed the cantor was preparing, and nodded. They fired their Seraphim magic in unison, blasting directly into the cantor. He raised his hands, summoning some monsters, which were quickly dispelled by the Seraphims- at the least, the brunt of the spells were dispelled before the cantor was struck. Boey sighed, and added his Aura spell, which the cantor was in no position to block. Celica stepped forward, Mae making sure to keep a hold of her.

“...Who do you work for?” Celica asked. The cantor spat at her feet.

“Why would I tell you? You will find out soon enough, and not a moment sooner,” the cantor told him. Mae grabbed his hair, and pulled back his head.

“How about now? Don’t think you’ll live to be punished by your master,” Mae told him.

“Our purpose is greater than a mere life… we obey orders from Duma himself!” the cantor proclaimed.

“So you work for Duma…” Mae growled.

“Wait… Duma is behind this? That doesn’t make any sense…” Celica remarked.

“That’s because you are a fool, Anthiese. And fools follow their betters,” the cantor claimed, reaching out for Celica. A javelin appeared in his back, and he dropped to the ground, his skeletal features turning into an actual skeleton surprisingly quick. Celica looked up, and saw a woman descending from the sky on pegasus-back.

“Good heavens, you lot must be frightened with worry…” the woman remarked, dismounting. Celica took in a breath, cautious about the new arrival- after all, her lance was still at the ready.

“Just who the hell are you?” Mae asked at last.

“My name is Clair, of the Zofian Army. I serve under Sir Alm himself,” Clair told them. Mae, Boey and Genny all turned to Celica, though if Clair found this odd, she didn’t bring this up.

“You… you work for Alm?” Celica asked. Clair pursed her lips.

“Well… work  _ for _ implies a social relationship that couldn’t be further from the truth. Although Sir Alm is a named commander of the Deliverance, he was raised a commoner with only some grasp of tactics, so he requires my advice to function as a commander independent from Clive,” Clair told them.

“My apologies. You work  _ with _ him?” Celica asked. Clair blinked.

“Oh, right, there was a question in there. Yes, if you so desire, I could arrange an audience with Sir Alm. Whom might I ask is inquiring?” Clair asked. Celica blushed slightly.

“Oh, uh…” Celica mumbled, turning to Mae. Mae smiled encouragingly.

“Why not, go ahead! After hearing so much about him and his heroic stand, I want to meet him, too!” Mae told her. Celica blushed more strongly, turning back to Clair.

“I’m… I’m Celica,” Celica told her. Clair’s eyes widened.

“Celica… I’ve heard a lot about you from Alm… but… oh, never mind. I’ll escort you to Zofia Castle,” Clair told them. Celica nodded, and turned to Boey.

“Lady Clair, can we wait for our mercenary escort? We shouldn’t be staying long- we have a mission of our own to do. And once we leave for that mission, we’ll need those guys. Plus, they won’t take to being abandoned well… and Genny here will never forgive us anyway,” Boey told her.

“Sure, we can wait. I simply must hear more about Celica from the lady herself! Alm, Faye and the boys tell such  _ different _ stories, many of which are interesting in their own right…” Clair remarked. Celica laughed a little.

“I suppose I can tell you a little about myself…” Celica stated.

* * *

 

Valbar’s crew had taken very little time to return to Celica, but the march to Zofia Castle was sufficiently long enough (on foot, it required a day’s rest) that Celica, Mae and Clair had shared plenty of stories about themselves, Alm and Faye. It was almost a relief to arrive at Zofia Castle, before all of the stories had been dried up there and then. The doors to the castle opened, and Celica was surprised to see the three Ram boys greet them.

“Gray! Tobin! Kliff!” Celica exclaimed.

“Celica!” they all repeated in their own ways, as Celica gave the three of them a massive group hug. She stepped back, and took in a breath to collect herself.

“Where’s Alm?” Celica asked. The boys looked between each other.

“I’ll take you to him. I think I’ll know where he’ll be,” Clair told her, leading her away. Gray turned to Mae, who was looking around the castle in awe of the spectacle.

“Hey there, good looking,” Gray told her, leaning forward. Mae squeaked, and darted behind Boey. Boey looked around from his own gawking, realised why Mae had done so, and jumped himself.

“...Which one are you again?” Boey asked. Gray blinked, before recognising the question.

“Gray,” he volunteered. Boey nodded.

“Gray, I would exercise caution around the girls. They have recently been captured by bandits, and as it turns out, that still has lingering effects,” Boey told him. Gray looked at Mae, whose cheeks were flushed with embarrassment as she emerged from behind Boey, but still held Boey’s hand tightly.

“...I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. I… is there anything I can do to help?” Gray asked. Mae blinked, her thoughts racing. But Boey answered first.

“For Mae, don’t think so. For Genny over there… doubt it, actually. And I don’t know for Celica. So… probably not, but your offer is appreciated,” Boey told him.

“Figures. Ah well, I wouldn’t expect a stranger to help me with something that sensitive, I suppose… would you like me to find you some rooms?” Gray asked.

“That would be nice…” Boey told him.

“Thank you,” Mae muttered. Gray smiled- it was such an earnest smile that Mae couldn’t help smiling back.

* * *

 

Celica entered the balcony hall, where Alm was standing besides Faye, who was sitting on the balcony. Alm was talking to Clair, an odd expression on his face. When he turned and noticed Celica, that expression settled into pure joy.

“Celica… you’re alive…” Alm remarked.

“I was dead?” Celica asked, confused, before turning to Faye.

“I didn’t realise that’s the impression he got from what I told him,” Faye told him, blushing. Celica nodded, and turned back to Alm.

“Alm… I’m… I’m happy I could see you again… even if I…” Celica started. Alm nodded encouragingly.

“If you’ve moved on, it’s OK. I thought you were dead- so have I,” Alm remarked. Celica giggled.

“But that’s no reason we can’t spend some time together ourselves. But I need to get to the Temple of Mila, and, well…” Celica started.

“We could go with you? We do need to do something about the Rigelian soldiers still out and about, and Clive’s still worried about Mathilda… I’m more convinced the Rigelians have already killed her,” Alm told her. Celica’s hand jumped to her throat, and Alm jumped. Clair was quicker, putting her arm around Celica.

“All the more reason for me to want as big an escort as I can, right?” Celica asked. Alm laughed.

“That’s a good a reason as any for us to join up, at least to the border into Rigel. From there… I don’t know. That’s one of the reasons we haven’t moved out yet. Rudolf is declaring war on us in every way but the formal way, and the only thing stopping me from retaliating is the fear of knights like Berkut. He didn’t seem all that strong to me, but if  _ that _ is a weak knight, I’d hate to see a strong one…” Alm explained.

“Why not avoid the war entirely? Surely there’s a peaceful way to resolve this conflict?” Celica asked.

“Our messenger hasn’t come back yet. I don’t know, and communication like this is not viable. Whether it is to declare war or peace, I need to march on Rigel… and we can escort you to the Temple of Mila while we’re moving,” Alm told her.

“...Thank you, Alm,” Celica told him, hugging him. Alm smiled, returning the gesture. Celica noticed Faye look rather nervously annoyed, and decided to stop the hug. Clair beamed at her.

“We shall fight to assure your honour, Lady Celica,” Clair assured her. Faye looked down bashfully.

“Yeah, Celica… that…” Faye remarked. Clair looked at her thoughtfully, as Alm turned as well.

“Thank you, girls… I shall hope this quest will allow me to retain that,” Celica told them. Clair beamed.

“It should,” she said with such confidence that Celica had to believe it.

* * *

 

Boey gently laid Mae onto the bed Gray had showed them two. The room had two beds, and Boey knew that Mae would want to share with Celica, but for now, he was here for her.

“Sure you’ll be all right?” Boey asked, expecting the answer.

“Sure I’ll be fine, I’m unstoppable!” Mae exclaimed. Boey smirked.

“It’s all right to admit you’re a broken girl, Mae…” Boey started. Mae scowled, but didn’t deny it- Boey found that a good sign.

“Mae, look… I understand if you prefer Celica’s company. I’ll admit she’s beautiful, and she’s certainly a kind soul…” Boey remarked.

“Are you kidding? She’s an angel descended. I… I love her…” Mae told him, blushing furiously. Boey held out a hand for her.

“Mae, just because you love Celica doesn’t mean you  _ need _ her. Celica can’t spend all her time with you- she’s needed to deal with other matters as well. I… I’ll do my best to help you,” Boey told her.

“Boey…” Mae remarked.

“Hm?” Boey asked.

“...You just love me, don’t you?” Mae asked. Boey began stuttering.

“Well… I…” Boey muttered.

“Because if you do, Boey… I’m not going to like you. I’ve… I’ve been told by Father Winston that I need to be your wife so you don’t fall for Celica, and… and I’ve been trying to find you cute. I really have- you’re not a half bad fellow. I just… I just can’t…” Mae started. Boey looked down.

“I… I think I understand,” Boey told her, bringing his hand up to brush Mae’s cheek.

“...I’m sorry you feel that way. But rest assured- I will not let that stop me from looking after you. I’m not going to expect you to love me back… the honour of making sure you and Celica are fine is enough for me. Plus, Mother Mila showed me that girl… but it’s hardly appropriate for me to fight only for a girl anyway. After all, wouldn’t that make me as bad as those bandits?” Boey asked. Mae laughed.

“I could certainly forgive you for it- I know you’re going to love that girl, and I’m almost jealous of her… but I know I’ll be happier with Celica. You’ll just be wasted on me…” Mae remarked. The pair let the remark trail, before Boey sighed.

“This isn’t making anyone happy, Mae. You want me to go check on Celica?” Boey asked. Mae blushed.

“...Could you stay a while?” Mae asked. Boey shrugged, and sat down beside her.

* * *

 

Boey remained by Mae’s side until Alm and Celica entered the room, with Faye and Clair remaining by Alm’s side- and Clair, at least, being somewhat concerned for the girls.

“Celica!” Mae exclaimed. Boey jumped away, as Celica darted towards Mae and pulled herself around the girl. Mae let out a brief grunt of pain, and Celica pulled herself away, still sitting close by her.

“So… this is Alm?” Mae asked, taking a look at the boy with whom she competed for Celica…

No. Mae looked again at the boy, and how her angel looked between them. Mae took in a breath, trying to cool herself down. She had to allow herself to tolerate the boy- and after all, he didn’t look too bad.

“Yes. You’re Celica’s girlfriend, right?” Alm asked. Mae felt a tinge of pride hearing that. Celica let him know…

“That I am,” Mae told him. Alm smiled, holding out his hand.

“I heard about your little run in with bandits on the way here. I understand you’d be a little touchy about it… I want you to know that you can feel safe here. Your magic is welcome, and… uh…” Alm stuttered. Celica beamed.

“Alm has agreed to help us head to the Temple of Mila. We leave at the start of Pegastym- there’s trouble brewing in Rigel, and Alm is thinking of mobilising. I’m not sure about it, but… Alm’s not a bad boy at heart. We  _ will _ be safe,” Celica told her. Mae looked at Alm again, seeing the eyes of a knight. His honour would keep them safe.

“...I trust you, Alm. Just… I love Celica. I hope you appreciate that,” Mae told him. Alm laughed.

“I already have two girls competing for my heart. That’s tiring enough,” Alm remarked. Faye’s indignant scowl and Clair’s vague chagrin told her a bit about how that was going. Mae nodded.

“So wait… so everything the nuns did on Novis was for nothing?” Boey asked. Celica contemplated his point.

“Well, not nothing, but this was certainly an avoidable mess with a bit of care,” Celica observed. Boey grumbled.


	11. The Fey and Faye

Celica awoke on the first of Pegastym raring to go. She untangled herself from the still-sleeping Mae, and got herself ready for a day of travel. She emerged from her room and looked around, to find only a select few of the army doing the same. Celica ran through the halls, beaming at each one, before bumping into Faye.

“Hey, Faye! What’s the plan?” Celica asked. Faye blinked.

“I… I don’t want to wake Alm…” Faye muttered, giving the floor at Celica’s feet a keen glare. Celica blinked.

“You… don’t know what the plan is?” Celica asked.

“Alm has probably told me, but I find him so dreamy, and this politics stuff so dry, that it’s definitely leaked out,” Faye told the light fixture to Celica’s left. Celica chuckled.

“I suppose… I believe Alm mentioned a Sir Fernand,” Celica asked. Faye’s eyes lit up on that.

“I remember Fernand. He didn’t like Clive dragging his feet, so he ran off to do his own thing. I think…” Faye remarked. Celica sighed.

“Where’s Clair?” Celica asked. Faye shrugged, turning to the armour on Celica’s right.

“...Are you all right, Faye?” Celica asked. Faye stared at the ceiling.

“...I… I’m…” Faye started. Celica beamed, and gave her a solid embrace.

“I know, war is scary…” Celica told her.

“Don’t worry, Celica, it’s not the war that gets me… I’m ready to fight in Alm’s name until the enemy’s corpses are dead. I just… well, I…” Faye stumbled once again.

“Is it about Alm?” Celica asked. Faye nodded.

“I am Alm’s girlfriend. Celica told me to keep him safe. And then Clair comes along… and… then…” Faye proclaimed. Celica shuddered.

“Faye, you need something other than Alm in your life,” Celica told her. Faye grunted.

“That’s what Clair said… she just wants time with Alm to herself, though, doesn’t she?” Faye asked.

“Clair’s worried about you too. She’s told me quite a bit about what she thinks of you… she says you’re a good girl, but your devotion to Alm means you shut down when exposed to anything else,” Celica told her.

“Figures…” Faye muttered. Celica pulled Faye into a second hug, but Faye pushed her away.

“I… I need Alm, Celica. I…” Faye told her, running away, presumably to where Alm would be. Celica blinked.

“...I wish I could help you, Faye. I want to thank you for taking care of Alm for me,” Celica muttered.

* * *

 

When Alm awoke, it was to Clair reading a note. She didn’t react to his awakening, so he was content to lie in rest, watching her read the note with a furiously focused expression on her face. Alm was almost content to gaze, only to notice a gleaming tear on her cheek. He let out a quiet gasp, and Clair looked up.

“...Good morning, Alm. Ready to get started on a new goal?” Clair asked, looking at him with a pained smile.

“Clair, you’re not fooling me. Something is bothering you,” Alm told her. Clair blushed.

“...Was it so obvious?” Clair asked. Alm shrugged.

“I saw the tear. What’s in the letter?” Alm asked. Clair wordlessly handed it to him, and Alm started browsing it. It didn’t take long for him to recognise what set Clair’s tears racing.

“Mathilda…” Alm muttered.

“...She…” Clair muttered, leaving Alm at a loss for words. He knew he had to do something for her. He took another look at the note, reading it closely.

_ Alm _

_ You seem the boy with a good head on his shoulders, so I’ll tell you my ultimatum. Give me back my castle, boy, and I shall return to you the Lady Mathilda. And if you don’t, well… I hope you can figure it out. You can tell that pompous fool Clive it was all you, too. You have until the 7th of Pegastym. _

_ Desaix _

Alm looked up at Clair, who was wringing her hands looking at him.

“So where would Desaix be holed up?” Alm asked. Clair beamed.

“A military keep created by Desaix himself. It’s… it’s close enough that Celica’s quest won’t be slowed down  _ too _ much…” Clair muttered.

“Clair, it’s  _ Mathilda _ . I’ve listened to you and Clive describe her so often… it’s almost my  _ duty _ to save her. And I will. You can count on it,” Alm assured her. Clair smirked.

* * *

 

“Alm?” Celica called, looking around the halls of Zofia Castle. She had only vague, childhood memories of the place, but the castle seemed just as large, if not larger, even though she had surely grown. She looked curiously at an ornate suit of armour that honestly scared her, before she heard Alm’s voice.

“Celica…” Alm remarked, walking towards her. Celica ran forwards, bowling him over with the force of her hug. She kept him on the floor for a good while before letting up, mostly because Alm was starting to thrash. Celica jumped away, allowing Alm to get to his feet.

“Alm, are you all right?” Celica asked. Alm shrugged.

“Picking myself up,” Alm snarked. Celica giggled, before giving him a piercing gaze. Alm blinked.

“Celica, what should I be worried about?” Alm asked.

“Being in charge of the army? Alm, you’re just a village boy. All this responsibility…” Celica remarked.

“Clair is there to help. Besides, my job is to inspire the common man…” Alm remarked. Celica sniffed.

“Alm… your men aren’t going to follow that forever. If you’re going to continue in this role, you need the confidence to back up your orders,” Celica told him.

“Right… Clair’s not the girl to look to for that. Celica… to that end, I must ask you something…” Alm remarked. Celica blushed.

“Well… I’m hardly one to look at for confidence. Mae’s been my teacher, but after the bandits, neither of us have had it…” Celica told him. Alm blinked.

“...I must ask you if you’ll bear with us while we make a detour to rescue Lady Mathilda,” Alm asked.

“Oh… I… sure…” Celica told him. Alm looked at her with concern.

“It’s just… well… the problem of Mila…” Celica stuttered.

“I know it’s a big deal… but Mathilda is important to this army. Not only because her skill at leadership, but because she’s so critical to morale… Celica, I hope you understand,” Am told her.

“...I think I do… you want to make sure we’re at our best combat-wise for the Temple of Mila?” Celica asked.

“Of course. What do you think we can do about someone that can subdue a goddess? Placate them with nice words?” Alm asked.

“Well…” Celica started.

“Celica… I don’t mean to bring up bad memories for the sake of doing so, but remember the bandits. You can’t reason with everybody. And being prepared for a fight when you expect one is simply the smart thing to do. And… if I let Mathilda die, I’d never be able to face Clair again,” Alm told her. Celica let out a sniff.

“I…” Celica started, but whatever she was about to say was precluded by a further sniff. Alm leaned in, and gave her a comforting hug.

“Alm… I’m being selfish here, aren’t I? I’ve been captured, and I’m suggesting you ignore Mathilda. I… I’m sorry,” Celica told him.

“Celica, it’s fine. You’re worried, I know,” Alm told her.

“Just make sure Mathilda gets out of there,” Celica told him. Alm smirked.

“As opposed to what?” Alm asked her.

* * *

 

The two soldiers dragged the knight through the short trek to Desaix’s throne. The castle was much too small for their worth- Zofia Castle was what they deserved. And they would take it from that Alm boy’s hands soon enough…

“Hello, Fernand!” Desaix called. The guards jumped, as Desaix entered the room from behind the throne. Fernand simply remained smirking.

“You think you have me beat?” Fernand asked. Desaix nodded.

“We have an anti-escaping measure in place. Telling you what it is would ruin the fun… but I can assure you it’s quite effective. Besides, you wouldn’t want to leave your friend Mathilda all alone, would you?” Desaix asked.

“You will address her as  _ Lady _ Mathilda, dastard. A woman of her stature deserves such respect!” Fernand told him. Desaix chuckled.

“Such loyalty… but aren’t we getting a little… presumptuous?” Desaix asked. Fernand snarled.

“Fernand, my spies report that Alm has mobilised, and intends to make his way here. He intends to rescue Mathilda, and despite how frequently the two of you fight, I doubt he will be too averse to saving you. Goody-two-shoes like him can never resist a rescue. But it’s a trap. Alm will be killed if he comes here. Our little weapon will assure it. Then, and only then, will you be killed. Until then, you may serve as bait,” Desaix told him.

“...Sorry, I wasn’t listening,” Fernand told him. Desaix growled, as he ordered Fernand removed. He started thinking about Alm, and that most dangerous thought- that Alm might survive his trap- came to mind. He tried to adjust his mind to Alm the smouldering corpse, but the thought wasn’t coming to mind.

He was going to regain his rightful place at the top of the food chain, beholden to no man at last… and when that day came… he was going to snuff out the gods. Then he was going to snuff out Rigel. And then… and  _ only _ then… would he truly be beholden to no one.

* * *

 

Mae smiled as she looked over the country, her arms embracing a cute girl as she soared across the skies, scouting for anything of note to report to Celica and Alm. Mae shivered a little as Clair’s hair brushed across her cheek, but the confident pegasus knight remained focused on the countryside. Mae blushed, tightening her grip on Clair.

“Scared of heights?” Clair asked.

“...No. It’s… uh…” Mae stuttered. Clair clucked.

“You have a crush on Celica, right?” Clair asked. Mae jumped slightly, and Clair dropped a rein to quickly grab Mae’s arm. Mae shivered as she held on, the pegasus wavering in confusion as Clair started flicking at the other rein with her foot. Mae leaned forward and grabbed it, pulling it up for Clair.

“Thanks. You sure you’re all right?” Clair asked. Mae gulped.

“I’m just… it’s all so strange, being out of the priory where all I did was train, pine for Celica and argue with Boey. It’s a bit overwhelming, and the pirates certainly weren’t helping…  _ is Celica OK _ ?” Mae asked, quickly turning towards the party to try and find Celica. Clair could keep a hold of the mount.

“You poor thing… love does weird things to a girl…” Clair remarked. Mae turned to her.

“...What about you?” Mae asked. Clair smirked.

“ _ I _ am Sir Alm’s advisor and confidant. I am not his suitress- that is for Faye to claim in a romantic gesture. My job is just to make sure everyone turns out happy…” Clair told her. Mae threw her arms around Clair’s shoulders.

“Sounds like  _ someone _ isn’t happy with that arrangement,” Mae told her.

“I… I’m happy as long as Alm’s happy…” Clair stated, sobbing quietly.

“...And Alm  _ will _ be happy. Because you’ll be there for him when he needs it, regardless of who is the one bedding him. ...Besides, at least I’m stealing Celica from of the running,” Mae told her. Clair turned to face Mae, to find her grinning unabashedly.

“...Thanks, Mae. Now about that scouting mission?” Clair asked.

“Right… I’m feeling something dark ahead. Can you bring me closer?” Mae asked. Clair nodded, and urged her pegasus forward. Mae held out a hand, trying to get a sense for the energies she had detected.

* * *

 

“...Clair and Mae have been gone a while,” Celica muttered, looking up at the sky with quite a bit of regularity. Alm took the time to check the skies as well- he wasn’t worried, he just wanted to have something to assure Celica with. He knew Clair was the safest person to soar with, but Celica saw Mae volunteering to scout and showed nothing but worry.

“It’ll be fine,” Mae had told her. But Alm supposed the wound of the brigand’s capture ran too deep for Celica.

“Celica… are you sure you’re all right to be questing?” Alm asked.

“I’m… well, it’s something I  _ have _ to do, Alm. Sure, staying at the castle with Mae sounds great, but until we find out what happened to the Earth Mother, we can’t do that. We have to save the Earth Mother,” Celica stated.

“...I understand, Celica. Please, though… just be careful,” Alm asked.

“I shall be, Alm. I don’t need telling twice,” Celica stated. Alm chuckled nervously, allowing Celica’s smile to assure him he was fine, before hearing something amiss. It sounded much like someone marching through thickets, but at the same time, the eerie, chilling sound did not match the sort of sound Alm’s own men were making. He called for a halt, and the slithering tune didn’t stop.

“Ready your weapons,” Alm called. With a few louder sounds, the noisemakers made their appearance- a small group of arcanists, about seven large, hovered menacingly before them.

“So what is it you lot are after?” Alm asked. The arcanists looked between each other, before one stepped forward.

“We are here for the girl,” one of them stated. Alm turned around, and counted four. Six, Alm amended, thinking of Clair and Mae, before he realised there were probably girls in his army, too.

“You’re gonna have to narrow it down,” Alm told him.

“You boys think that’s so clever...Like I’ve never heard it before. Well guess, what, boy? I have,” the arcanist called.

“But how… Clair killed the one we met,” Celica pointed out.

“We know everything,” another arcanist added. Alm let out a snore to pre-empt a demonstration. Really, he’d personally rather not have to deal with the bunch at all, but he knew he’d have to.

“I may not know much, but I know this- I will  _ never _ let you capture her,” Alm called, readying his sword.

“You will put a stop to us, mortal? Pardon me while I tremble in fear,” an arcanist called. Alm growled, but a gentle hand stopped him from charging. Alm smiled, only to notice it was Silque brushing him aside.

“Excuse me?” Alm asked. Silque looked between the seven arcanists thoughtfully, as Jesse ran up beside her. She nodded, and cast a spell at Jesse.

“Where are you aiming?” Silque asked.

“Closest ones,” Jesse stated, drawing a sword that seemed to glow as the fire overcame him.

“Got it. Ready, and… charged,” Silque stated. Jesse shot forward like an arrow, cleaving through two arcanists clean before the rest could prepare shots. Their Mire spells were flung into Jesse’s face, only to bounce off. Silque blasted two Nosferatu spells, hitting one of the arcanists in the rear and missing the second. Before the missed arcanist could prepare a retaliation, Jesse cut down him and his friend. Silque fired a third Nosferatu, stunning the sixth arcanist, while the seventh prepared to run in terror. Jesse threw his sword, and Silque narrowed her eyes. The sword seemed to move faster, allowing the blade to strike the arcanist, as Jesse ran up to retrieve it.

“...What was that?” Alm asked.

“Apparently, if I’m going to keep Jesse around for this long, I need to offer him a reason. I think that’s reason enough?” Silque asked. Alm blinked.

“...I’m not sure if that answered the question…” Alm pointed out, before Clair made her landing and distracted him.

“We found an overwhelming dark magic force around where Desaix’s meant to be holed up,” Mae stated, dismounting and rushing to Celica’s side. Celica brought her in for a hug, before Mae quickly established she was looking for just holding hands.

“How close could you get?” Celica asked.

“Not tremendously. But I think Desaix- and Mathilda- are still around. They just have a powerful dark magic source,” Clair stated.

“...We have Silque. Hope that’s enough,” Alm stated. Clair turned to look at the arcanists.

“Likewise,” Clair stated.

* * *

 

Genny lingered somewhat behind Celica, watching with a vague jealousy she couldn’t place as she watched her and Mae talk at great length. Vague because she knew, at least, those two were friends for a long time, but she still wanted to feel that ease around Valbar… or really, anyone.

“Hey there,” Kamui called. Genny smiled, allowing him to approach her.

“Hey, Mr Kamui…” Genny replied.

“It’s just Kamui to you. Or anyone, really… I’m not the sort of guy who likes titles, and if I were, I’d think my swordsmanship deserves a title slightly more grand than ‘Mr’,” Kamui told her.

“...Well, Kamui… sorry, can’t manage it. Well, have you ever wanted companionship?” Genny asked. Kamui chuckled.

“Nope, can’t say that I have. Began wandering at a young age, became adept before I was your age, and just doing odd jobs before never seeing my employers again. Or sensing them, either. I love the loneliness- it’s not for everyone, but it  _ is _ for me,” Kamui told her.

“...After this, will I never see you again?” Genny asked.

“Hm… the odds aren’t in your favour. It’s not like this has really felt special. But I’ll probably remember you fondly, at least…” Kamui told her. Genny let out a sob.

“Gen… how’s your thing with Valbar going?” Kamui asked. Genny let out a bigger one.

“He’s still… well, I’m worried. I feel like… I’m worried he’ll never see me the same way,” Genny told him.

“Well, he probably won’t. But he might be open to a more ‘appropriate’ relationship, like maybe an adoption. And if you can get one of those, you might find yourself happier than trying to force something that’s going to end in misery,” Kamui suggested.

“...I suppose…” Genny remarked. Kamui let out a breath.

“Kid, I’m gonna be straight with ya- family was not my thing. But I did have one… and a family where everyone is comfortable where they are is much happier than a forced one. Trust me on this one,” Kamui told her.

“...I’ll try,” Genny confirmed. Kamui gave her a hug.

“Family is hard. It always is…” Kamui reminded her.

* * *

 

When passing the nearby village, Alm deemed it prudent to request supplies as able. On Clair’s recommendation, Alm sent those in his party that might’ve been the least threatening. Gray, Tobin, Kliff, and Faye were chosen, and Faye only because Clive suggested there be one girl. Gray and Tobin cast her anxious glances every now and then as they looked about town. Tobin’s eyes lit up, as he pointed out a smithy’s. He and Gray rocketed ahead, leaving Faye with the somewhat exhausted Kliff.

“You all right? You’re not normally this easily tired,” Faye asked.

“It’s fine, Faye. I’m just not used to being out and about. ...Granted, I’ve been fine up until now, but I always knew it was just a matter of time,” Kliff told him.

“Kliff, aren’t you a little young to be going on about how old you are? You’re younger than I am, and you don’t hear me go on about my grey hairs!” Faye exclaimed.

“It’s… wait… you can sense it, too, right?” Kliff asked. Faye blinked in confusion.

“Nope,” Faye told him. Kliff’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m sure I can sense something malicious… try a little harder, Faye,” Kliff suggested. Faye closed her eyes, allowing a sense of the surrounding magic to come to prominence. She sensed it- a magic holding Kliff.

“Yeah, it’s there. Sorry for doubting you… come forth, warlock, and reveal your intentions,” Faye proclaimed in as threatening a tone as she could muster. Kliff was actually kind of terrified by it, as he turned to face the warlock. As he stepped out from the shadow of the house, his charm was released, and Kliff fell to the ground.

“My name is Luthier. And I need some help rescuing my… little sister, Delthea,” Luthier stated.

“We don’t help  _ rude _ people. Come on, Kliff,” Faye huffed, turning to leave. Luthier used his magic to hold her in place, turning to Kliff.

“I’m afraid I must insist. If it were a normal case, I’d probably accept the rebuke. I’d probably even let her go. But Delthea… she has a natural talent for magic that far surpasses my current skill. Her captors have… taken advantage of that, so to speak,” Luthier explained.

“...The dark magic around Desaix’s castle… that’s your sister’s doing?” Kliff asked.

“So you know of her presence… that is good to hear. As her master, I am adept at controlling her magic when it goes wild- I should be able to keep her at bay while you approach this… Desays,” Luthier stated.

“...Master?” Faye asked. Kliff had to stifle a laugh- Faye did not.

“...Look, do you want my help or not?” Luthier asked.

“I think you’ll do. Just come along, and try to maintain a certain standard of politeness… or just stay out of the noble’s mess. That’s what I do,” Kliff remarked.

“I… I understand. I shall try,” Luthier claimed.

* * *

 

Fernand had been tossed into a cell with Mathilda. The guards had claimed they were eager to see the two collaborate on an escape- but the instant Fernand saw Mathilda’s burned arms, he realised what the odds really were.

“What happened to Clive?” Mathilda asked. Fernand stammered, wondering what he should tell her.

“Well… you may rest assured that he is alive,” Fernand told her simply. Mathilda nodded.

“So you fought valiantly such that they could make an escape? The guards mentioned your party was wiped… I was worried,” Mathilda pointed out, her eyes narrowing. Fernand suddenly felt Mathilda was checking him for a lie- or at least a concealed truth. And to be fair, he was willing to share.

“I no longer support Clive. I cannot abide by a man willing to raise a commoner to his level,” Fernand told her.

“...I beg your pardon?” Mathilda asked.

“I cannot sit idly by as a man renounces his honour in the name of such filth. I have decided to fight back Rigel in my own way, but they overwhelmed our noble forces…” Fernand explained.

“Fernand… you foolish man. You allowed your pride to overtake your reason, and this is your punishment. Fernand…” Mathilda told him.

“Mathilda, know that I bear you no hard feelings. I am honoured of my Zofian heritage. I’m just not so honoured to deal with peasant scum…” Fernand reiterated.

“...I have nothing more to say to you,” Mathilda told him, turning to a wall. Fernand tried a few more times to plead his case, but Mathilda resolutely denied him the honour of a ‘no’.


	12. A Fallen Leader

Alm’s army was within a day’s march when they encountered the dark magic surrounding Desaix’s fortress. Even those with little attunement to magic like Python could feel the force, and a purple tint around the area was visible to the naked eye, if only barely. Delthea’s magic was running wild here.

“So you say you can help us dispel this?” Alm asked Luthier.

“Of course. Let’s see…” Luthier muttered, approaching the magic, and waving his hands in intricate patterns. He mumbled arcane words as he moved, and some of the feelings of ominousness began to fade.

“...Help…” Alm heard over the din. He turned to face the speaker, an armed soldier struggling in the magic field. He and Clair rushed over, Celica pulling everyone else over.

“You’re going to be all right…” Alm muttered vaguely, allowing Clair to check him.

“C-Clair…” the man muttered. Alm gasped, his hand jumping to his sword.

“Who are you, and how do you know Clair?” Alm asked. Clair looked up at him.

“Alm, I’m a noble, people knowing me isn’t suspicious. Besides, this is my father,” Clair explained. She turned him to face Alm, and the resemblance began to strike him.

“So you are the commoner Clive promoted? Strange… you don’t look like one,” Clair’s father told him. Alm felt a rush of emotions- but he was fairly sure none of them were pride.

“If you’re saying I should pass into nobility, I’d rather not,” Alm told him. Clair’s father simply grinned.

“Not even to marry my daughter?” he asked. Both Alm and Clair’s jaws dropped.

“...Marry him, father?” Clair asked.

“...I’m… I’m not…” Alm couldn’t even splutter even that as a reaction.

“Commoner… err…” Clair’s father began, turning to Clair.

“Alm,” Clair prompted.

“Yes, Alm.  Fernand had his family killed by commoners. His judgement is coloured. But you… I see great things for you. You will make a fine husband one day…” Clair’s father remarked, before Luthier’s work moved the dark tint from him. The man started coughing and spluttering like mad.

“Are you all right?” Alm exclaimed, forgetting his shock.

“Fernand… captured… everyone else… dead… I… I follow… Clair… be… be…” Clair’s father coughed out, before his unsteady breathing slowly stopped. Clair let out a sob. Alm turned to the darkness.

“Luthier… I think that was keeping this man alive!” Alm stated.

“Obviously, boy. This is Duma’s Pact- while within its domain, your person cannot deteriorate unless externally harmed,” Luthier explained. Alm blinked, looking blankly at him.

“...You only hurt when people stabby stab. You no hurt when using magic,” Luthier drawled.

“You could do without the condescension. But regardless, minus the association with Duma, it seems pretty all right. Why dispel it?” Alm asked.

“...Do you want to have to deal with Delthea slinging powerful magic without draining herself?” Luthier asked. Mae’s jaw dropped.

“I see. Well, do be careful. Mathilda might still be alive only because of that,” Alm told him.

“Psh. If you spent less time mourning over that random guy, you could probably have saved her by now,” Luthier scoffed. Alm looked at the sun. It was around mid-morning.

“...We go faster. We’ve gotta get to Mathilda,” Alm stated. Clive nodded, and called the soldiers to hustle into formation. Alm went to Clair, checking on her.

“Are you going to be all right?” Alm asked. Clair jumped, blushing slightly, before composing herself.

“...I’ll prove to him that I can save Mathilda  _ without _ his help,” Clair stated, hopping on board her pegasus. Alm turned to the body, confused as to what Clair was bemoaning, before Clair scooped him onto her pegasus. Alm was quite surprised, but when Clair nudged for him to hold on, Alm found himself unable to process anything but mild fear.

* * *

 

Alm and Clair arrived at Desaix’s fortress, diving into the trees to hopefully avoid being spotted. Clair held Alm behind a tree for a few minutes to make sure their sudden arrival and disappearance would appear forgotten. By the time staring at each other got awkwardly romantic, they emerged from their cover, still somewhat concealed in the bush. No one seemed to have noticed them- or at least, nothing looked unusual.

“Good. Now we just need to figure out how to get in,” Clair stated. She began her examination of the fort, taking notes of what looked similar to her experiences, and what looked different. Alm, who didn’t know good design from bad, was left aimlessly wondering.

“Clair… did what your father said get to you?” Alm asked. Clair muttered under her breath, mentally measuring lengths of the keep’s front, before answering.

“It’s what he  _ didn’t _ say. Nothing about this keep, nothing about the enemy’s capabilities, nothing about what happened to Fernand or Mathilda. He didn’t even  _ look _ at his own son. His dying breath was making sure I found a husband. Even if we weren’t in the middle of an… well, something likely to be declared a war, not something I’d have appreciated,” Clair told him. Alm nodded vaguely, watching her inspect the keep very intently. To him, it was almost… hypnotic, the way her hair waved as she moved, the way her eyes narrowed as she watched someone approach the keep and be allowed in… Alm felt he should probably be trying to learn something, but he was too distracted by Clair to care.

“...Is something the matter, Alm?” Clair asked, continuing her consultation of the keep, but moving to investigate the back. Alm took that as a cue to follow her.

“Well, um… it  _ is _ kind of nice that your father likes the idea of us being together… isn’t it?” Alm asked. Clair paused, and Alm almost crashed into her.

“...Aren’t you and Faye meant for each other?” Clair asked. Alm’s jaw dropped.

“Um, well… I mean, when we were kids, maybe, but… I don’t know. She cares for me a great deal, but... I… I’m thinking of what you said after we took back Zofia… about… well…” Alm started. Clair turned away from him, hiding her smile.

“...The war comes first. After that, well…” Clair told him, continuing her walk. Alm found himself somehow relieved.

“...Is that an entrance?” Alm asked, to assure her the topic was dropped.

“Not one we’ll see use of. Keep an eye on it once the battle starts, though…” Clair told him.

* * *

 

Celica shivered as they approached the keep. It wasn’t Delthea’s magic that was the problem- after Luthier’s explanation, Celica knew that the magic field should be energising her. Her thoughts were to Mathilda… Celica was thinking of her own capture, and hating the thoughts.

“Celica…” Genny called. Celica looked up, and let Genny come and hold her hand. From the look in her eyes, Celica could tell it was on her mind, too.

“Are you OK, Genny?” Celica asked, squeezing her hand. Genny squeezed back.

“I’m all right, Cel. I can almost forget about those thugs during the day, and just focus on helping everyone out. Haven’t had much sleep, though… I’m scared they’ll come back and take me away and…” Genny muttered.

“It’s OK, it’s OK, Genny… no one will take you while we’re around,” Celica assured her.

“But…” Genny started.

“They’ll take me to deliver to that guy that wants me, and if they want toys, they’ll probably go for Faye and Clair first. By the time they get to you, everyone should probably be awake and killing them,” Celica told her. Genny’s laugh was really quiet and squeaky, but she laughed.

“Celica… are  _ you _ all right?” Genny asked. Celica looked at her, considering her response.

“...I’m a little conscious about what it’s like to be captured. Mathilda, alone and scared in there… I just know how she’s feeling. And… I’m…” Celica told her. Genny smiled.

“Yeah… but I feel like my writing might benefit from knowing how it feels. I… you know, I wonder..” Genny mumbled. Celica smiled.

“You’re planning on writing about a girl being captured?” Celica asked.

“I… do you think it will help me cope?” Genny asked.

“I know you enjoy writing. I think there’s a good chance it’ll help. But I think, in general, you should be writing more- it’ll make you feel better,” Celica observed.

“You have a point… I’ll give it a shot tonight. What about you, Cel?” Genny asked.

“Snuggling with Mae again. I  _ wish _ I had a hobby like yours,” Celica bemoaned.

“Well… maybe we could write together? I’ve never had someone to proofread my stories before…” Genny asked. Celica smiled.

“That sounds nice,” Celica remarked.

* * *

 

When the main party arrived outside the keep, they found Alm and Clair waiting for them, sitting beside each other under a tree. Clair jumped to attention almost immediately, and called the Ram villagers over so she could draw them a map. Clive approached Alm, letting out a small cough. Alm acknowledged him with a wave, his eyes still on the castle.

“Alm… you do understand that Clair is… out of your reach,” Clive remarked. Alm groaned.

“I can hear the rest of this conversation already. Clive, maybe if you actually  _ listened _ to Clair, you’d realise you’d never get her to do whatever it is nobles do instead of what she wants. And really, what you’ve shown me isn’t very impressive as a noble- you’ve said vague things about elevating the commoners, but you haven’t shown the elevated status to be any better than our old lives,” Alm told him.

“...I, uh… um… er…” Clive stumbled.

“Don’t dish out what you can’t take, Clive. The kind of noble the common man wants to associate with is Clair, and it’s not because of the two reasons you’re thinking of. From the sounds of it, she learned most of that from Mathilda. Sorry, Clive… but… wait, Clive, hold on…” Alm muttered, reaching for his sword. Clive turned to the castle, and noticed the movements too. Some soldiers appeared on the ramparts that weren’t part of the guard, dragging between them two figures. Fernand, for some reason, and Mathilda were hauled to posts, and lashed to them.

“Alm! I know you’re in that forest somewhere! Come out and surrender the Deliverance, or I burn these two!” Desaix shouted. Clair looked up, and scratched out her plan.

“Tobin, Python, Leon, archery. Someone’s gotta charge up there,” Clair muttered.

“I’ll do it,” Gray stated.

“And me,” Faye added.

“I’ll warp you up,” Silque told Faye, who nodded and readied her own warping magic- the magic of Rescue.

“Clive, organise a containment of the exits. The front and the two on the sides,” Alm ordered. Clive stuttered.

“Er… Valbar, Lukas, you two go around the sides. Celica-” Clair corrected, looking at the Novis mages. Genny had burst into tears, while Celica and Mae were merely shrinking back.

“...Never mind. Kamui, you deal with the front. Kliff, keep an eye out for Delthea. Jesse, you defend him. Alm, we go aerial support until we get an opening to deal with Desaix,” Clair ordered. Everyone nodded, readying their jobs as quick as they were able.

Which wasn’t quick enough.

A blast of magic appeared amongst them, harming a handful of rank and file soldiers. A little girl appeared before them, dark eyes betraying her corrupted self. This had to be Luthier’s sister, Delthea…

“Alm, stick to the plan. I’ll hold her off!” Clive called.

“Clive… she’ll kill you!” Alm pointed out.

“We have no choice. Luthier’s not done disarming the barrier. Alm… save Mathilda. If you don’t… well, we lose two valuable commanders here today,” Clive stated. He charged forward, and rammed the witch with his horse. Alm turned to his men, and barked at them. They jolted into action, readying themselves to get to Mathilda. Silque teleported Faye, and Gray found himself teleported to Faye in short order.

“You’ve got this…” Alm muttered, before being jostled onto Clair’s pegasus.

“Not yet they don’t,” Clair told him.

* * *

 

Gray hustled to undoing the knots binding Mathilda to her pole, while Faye began looking around at the state of the enemies. The soldiers gathered in the castle courtyard were, for the most part, headed outside the castle to deal with the army on the outside. A limited number, including Desaix, ran towards the battlements, throwing up ladders to climb. Faye smirked, preparing her spells. The first soldier to make it to the top of his ladder was blasted by Nosferatu, tipping the ladder backwards to the castle stone. A few of his neighbours gasped, beginning their descent. Faye knocked them down, before turning and hitting a soldier that made it up. Gray untied the knots around Mathilda’s arms before scooping up his sword and rushing to help Faye keep the soldiers at bay. Mathilda was about to moan at him in annoyance, before realising that she could untie herself from this point and give the two an extra pair of hands.

“Rebel scum…” Desaix laughed, standing on the battlements. Gray gasped, only for Faye to rush between him and Desaix.

“I will never forgive you for what you did to Alm and Clive,” Faye stated, though what exactly that might have been was known only to herself. Desaix, rather than express his confusion, chose a maniacal grin.

“Excellent… kill you or break you, I remove a pesky thorn in my side. The hard part… is choosing which one,” Desaix laughed, licking his lips. Faye responded with a yawn, before blasting him with Nosferatu.

“You’ll find I’m a tad more…  _ resistant _ to your little trick, princess,” Desaix taunted. Faye growled, turning to face Gray and Mathilda. Gray was still dealing with the soldiers, knocking each ladder down as efficiently as possible. Mathilda was busy trying to untie Fernand, forgetting Gray’s idea and starting from the ankles.

“Mathilda!” Faye called, before jumping back. Mathilda looked up, and realised her mistake. She dropped Fernand’s bindings, grabbed a lance, and ran beyond Faye to duel with the tyrant.

“Get away from… from her!” Mathilda exclaimed, curious as to the girl’s identity as she swung her lance. The burns on her arms, wounds from Delthea that she had long since adapted to for the things she did in captivity, were stinging her in her attempts to swing a lance, not helped by how long it had been since she had swung a lance on foot.

“Pathetic. You call yourself the leader of that pathetic band?” Desaix asked.

“I do. I may be weakened by imprisonment, but I can  _ still _ fight you toe-to-toe!” Mathilda yelled, charging and striking him with her lance. Desaix indeed felt that strike- it was far from a decisive one, but not one he expected from the woman.

“But I  _ haven’t _ been imprisoned. I have the upper hand,” Desaix told her, swinging his own lance. Mathilda stepped back from its arc, allowing it to pass by. Desaix was paused by the act, and Mathilda lunged with her lance as quick as she could. Desaix unfortunately recovered before Mathilda could make a decisive blow, and she stepped back, eyeing the situation.

“Excellent… I can still win yet,” Desaix claimed. Mathilda heard a whoosh overhead, and jumped backwards. Alm landed in front of her, wincing as his legs moaned from the landing. Alm shook himself, and brandished his blade.

“Albien… no, you are nothing,  _ nothing _ . You are Alm. A common piece of filth that’ll peeling off my boot will pose the most challenging threat,” Desaix chuckled. Alm growled.

“I shall not be belittled… I am Alm, captain of the Deliverance. I am Alm, grandson of Sir Mycen. I am-” Alm began, before lunging into Desaix. Truth be told, he didn’t have a third thing prepared. Desaix took the blow solidly, and swung back. Alm was sent backwards, his sword clattering away. Alm growled, swinging a kick to knock Desaix down. Desaix’s heavy armour left him with only a pained ankle.

“On your knees!” Clair called. Alm looked up, grateful, as Clair threw a javelin at Desaix, dropping Kliff beside him. Kliff began throwing Excaliburs forward at an alarming rate.

“Damn you, Deliverance scum!” Desaix growled.

“Better than rebel scum,” Alm boasted. Desaix roared scratchily, and threw his spear at Kliff before Kliff’s flurry of Excaliburs defeated him at long last.

“Kliff…” Alm muttered. Gray, Faye and Mathilda turned, and gasped. Faye ran up to Kliff, and began casting white magic to help him recover. Mathilda strode towards Alm, and helped him up.

“So you must be this Alm I have heard so much about from Desaix… I take it Clair trusts you?” Mathilda asked. Alm looked around, unable to stutter out an answer. Aside from Mathilda’s reputation, the woman herself was pretty attractive, in much the same way Clair was.

“...You must be exhausted. We’ll cool down here, explore what Desaix’s got lying around, before we consider things like this in detail,” Mathilda told him. Alm nodded gratefully, still at a loss for words.

* * *

 

Tobin looked across the field outside the castle. Deliverance corpses against those of Desaix’s men… for the first time, it began to sink in, just what Alm had got him into. There was danger, yes… but it was an unforgiving danger. An uncaring one.

“...This won’t be fun to explain…” Lukas muttered. Tobin approached him, and saw Clive’s charred corpse. It sunk in. No one was safe.

“...Is it too late to resign?” Tobin asked. Lukas looked up at him.

“I won’t begrudge you. And I’m sure Clive wouldn’t, either. But what about your friends from Ram? Alm and Gray aren’t likely to be happy…” Lukas pointed out.

“Yeah… they’re why I haven’t left already. But still… my family needs me. They’ve lost one too many relatives already, thanks to Berkut. I can’t get them money if I’m dead,” Tobin told him, running his hand through his hair with worry.

“Tobin… the only person who knows what’s right for you is you. I’m sure Alm and Gray will forgive you for this- after all, you have more to lose than they,” Lukas suggested. Tobin chuckled.

“Alm’s got all the girls he could ever want. He’s got stuff to lose,” Tobin told him.

“But Alm still maintains his course. The depravity of war does not sway him- it makes him more focused on stopping it. Everyone handles war differently. Some take to it like a duck to water. When you came with us for the first time, back at Ram, you were the only one unready to follow. War does not fit you like it fits Alm,” Lukas remarked. Tobin looked again at Clive.

“Alm fights so this never happens again…” Tobin muttered, hand running through his hair again.

“This is a big decision,” Lukas reminded him. Tobin nodded.

“I… I’ll try my best. I… don’t know if I can take much more, though,” Tobin remarked. Lukas’s next attempt at comforting remarks was stopped by Mathilda’s approach.

“Sir Lukas, inform the men that we will rest in Desaix’s fortress, potentially for the night,” Mathilda told him confidently.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lukas responded, saluting, before marching to do his job. Tobin looked up at Mathilda, feeling a little part of him start to warm up.

“What should I do with Clive?” Tobin asked.

“...I’ll handle it myself. Might I ask your name?” Mathilda asked.

“Tobin,” Tobin stated, smiling somewhat to himself.

“Tobin, hm? That’s a new one… I’ll remember that, Tobin. Now you help Lukas make sure everyone gets inside. Don’t want to lose anyone else, especially not in such an embarrassing way,” Mathilda stated. Tobin nodded, and went to follow. When he was quite a ways away, he turned back, and saw Mathilda hunched over what was left of Clive.

“...I don’t want that to happen… I can’t let that happen… I  _ won’t _ let that happen!” Tobin muttered, pumping his fist in rhythm. That was what Alm and everyone else was thinking. If he wanted the confidence to stand by them, that’s what he’d need to think.

“...I don’t want that to happen… I can’t let that happen… I  _ won’t _ let that happen!” Tobin repeated. It sounded pretty good.

* * *

 

Clair smiled as Mathilda drifted in after everyone else. She had heard that her brother was dead, but she knew that Mathilda could help cheer her up. Clair held out her hand for her mentor and friend, and guided her towards one of Desaix’s favourite rooms. His tastes were definitely not for them, but the bed was amazingly comfy. Clair sat down with Mathilda, only for  _ her _ to start bawling.

“Mathilda?” Clair asked. She would’ve been indignant if not for the fact their mutual loss was still on the forefront of her mind.

“Clive… why… why did you have to go? It was all my fault, I shouldn’t have let myself get taken, please, just… just come back, please…” Mathilda sobbed. Clair pulled her into a hug, a few strokes down her backside to try and soothe her.

“Clair…” Mathilda started, hesitating.

“I know… Clive’s my brother. I should be the one sobbing into your shoulder… I don’t really know why… I’m just not as upset,” Clair muttered. Mathilda put a hand on her leg.

“It’ll probably sink in later. Clive was important to you… you’re going to feel it someday. But for now… we should be showing a strong face. It’ll take more than that to throw off  _ our _ morale. Save the tears for after the war…” Mathilda told her.

“Hm… I dunno. Wouldn’t the commoners be more interested in seeing us as human, with real emotions?” Clair asked. Mathilda considered her statement.

“Well… keep it limited. Anyway, speaking of commoners… what do you think of that Alm boy?” Mathilda asked. Clair began to blush, telling Mathilda what to expect immediately.

“Well, Alm is… well, he’s cute. And in over his head. I’ve been helping him get accustomed to the whole ‘leadership’ thing, and, well… Mathilda, I like him,” Clair told her. Mathilda beamed.

“...As the commander of the Deliverance, I’m not exactly filled with confidence in this choice of Clive’s. I understand what purpose Alm serves, but I’m not entirely sure that purpose is being met. As your close friend… totally on board this ship. So, how often do you interact romantically?” Mathilda asked, going from stern to excited in the blink of an eye. Clair chuckled.

“I’m afraid we don’t. I… I don’t want to establish a relationship amongst this war. And, well… he’s kinda got a psycho for a… um…” Clair started. Mathilda nodded.

“The psycho, we can deal with later. She can hardly be harder to deal with than you were when I was courting your brother. But Clair, I implore you…  _ let yourself love him _ . In war, he might not be able to treat you the way that your father told you your husband should, yes. But he’s a commoner- he’d never manage it anyway. Let your personalities blend before you commit. After all, isn’t that the entire reason you dumped all those nobles?” Mathilda asked. Clair chuckled.

“Somewhat. The other half was the fact none of them approached me with any dignity,” Clair scoffed, sending both into laughter.

“The one who showed up in a skirt?” Mathilda asked.

“I’d have been fine with it if he brought some underwear as well. I was thinking more along the lines of the one with the weird goatee and that menacing cackle, plotting this ‘world domination’ thing every other sentence,” Clair pointed out. Mathilda laughed even harder.

“I saw him. I’m still tempted to find him and yank that goatee…” Mathilda told her. Clair beamed, looking over to Alm’s room thoughtfully.

“...Clair, if you want to move on Alm, I’m not going to stop you. Just know I won’t be thinking of you, but instead some of the other suitors we’ve had to try and cheer up,” Mathilda told her. Clair chuckled as she headed to the door hopefully.

“Don’t forget the one with no shirt,” Clair told her as she left. Mathilda laughed again.

“He tried to crush a cake in between those muscles of his… and then offered it to you when it splattered over the ground. Seriously, the fact they even thought they had a chance is humour enough…” Mathilda chuckled, searching her mind for more of the weird suitors.


	13. Hand of Rigel

Kliff awoke to find himself on a bed- more comfortable than he was familiar with, so he was going to assume this once owned to someone of seniority. Right now, it was just Faye tending to him.

“This is the second time this has happened, Faye… if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re starting to fall for me instead of Alm,” Kliff joked. Faye turned to his face, her joy at his awakening marred by her scowl at his teasing. The joy won, and Faye gave his hair a solid ruffle before continuing her examination.

“...Faye, are you sure you’re all right?” Kliff asked.

“I’m fine. That pegasus… girl is probably taking care of Alm,” Faye spat, though not on him. Kliff pursed his lips.

“Faye… if Alm were to marry Clair…” Kliff asked. Faye clenched her fists.

“That… detestable…” Faye muttered. Kliff gasped, and got up to put his hands over hers.

“Whoa, Faye… you want Alm to come back to the village, right?” Kliff asked. Faye nodded, trying to breathe and calm herself down.

“...Alm’s not going to be able to do that, though, is he?” Kliff asked.

“He’s not anywhere  _ near _ that point yet!” Faye cried out. Kliff smirked.

“Sorry, little sis… it is.  _ Someone _ has to take over the Zofian throne, after all,” Kliff pointed out.

“Mathilda,” Faye pointed out without a second thought. She seemed more desperate than smug.

“...Admittedly true. But the nobles’ ranks have diminished, and many commoners see Alm’s position as a sign that they might be able to fill those positions back up. What do you think it’d look like if Alm went back into the village-” Kliff explained carefully, before Faye leaned forward to interrupt him.

“Where he  _ belongs _ ,” she told him. Kliff stared at her. Faye took a moment to be puzzled, before recognising Kliff’s point.

“...I… Kliff…” Faye mumbled, sinking into Kliff’s arms. Kliff took her, and started stroking her back.

“Faye… I know Alm will always be your special one. But… I don’t think you’re compatible…” Kliff told her.

“I’m a failure as a girlfriend,” Faye sobbed into Kliff’s shoulder. Kliff pulled Faye in closer, and the girl’s eyes widened.

“You did nothing wrong…” Kliff told her. Faye tugged her arms out from between their two bodies, and threw them around Kliff’s shoulders.

“Kliff… thanks…” Faye told him.

“Don’t worry, Faye…” Kliff told her, kissing her on the forehead. Faye found herself surprised to feel ambivalent about it.

* * *

 

Celica watched Genny’s hand fly across the parchment. Once the younger girl had come to a conclusion on what she wanted to write about, she had shot off like a jet and showed no signs of stopping- Celica made a mental note to sneak some more parchment into their next trip for supplies.

Celica turned to her own parchment. She hadn’t written anything yet- Genny called it ‘writer’s block’. Celica wasn’t as sure- but Genny had called it normal, so she wasn’t going to question it. She looked up at Genny’s writing, but the girl subtly pushed it out of her view.

“...Genny, I’m still stuck,” Celica stated.

“Try writing about a future you want to pass- or one you don’t,” Genny told her without looking up. In fact, she hadn’t even moved to acknowledge her beyond speaking. Celica had a starting point now- but what future  _ did _ she want to explore? A story about her and Mae snuggling contentedly, no war, no pressure to be a strong queen, was appealing, before she considered the fact that such a story had no ending.

_...Then what don’t I want? _

Celica’s first thought was being captured and sold. She shivered at how readily the thought occurred to her, having almost  _ lived _ such a fate. Barth had claimed he had a buyer ready, to which Celica was both mortified and… curious. Celica’s eyes widened, realising that she was curious about the man who wanted to own her so desperately he ordered her before the pirates had captured her. With a start, she realised that maybe the two were linked- the pirates were energised into action  _ because _ someone had promised gold for her.

But what was he after? Her first thought was the throne. She went to stop there, before remembering her claim was nigh-discredited. After Desaix’s coup, how could she expect to claim the Zofian throne? Opinion of her father was low, she was a complete stranger, and she was sure the whole ‘liking Mae’ thing knocked her chances down some. Someone who bought her to marry her and claim the throne would probably be laughed out of the castle, if he was so lucky. It was possible, but someone who wanted the Zofian throne would have had better luck joining the Deliverance over buying a girl.

What else did she have? Her body was the next thought on the list. She was the most conventionally attractive of the three girls from Novis. She looked up at Genny. The pirates had helped themselves to her own body, groping her as well as some less savoury acts, and Celica distinctly remembered them saying “it’s not like he’s gonna care”. Genny, on the other hand, had told her that she hadn’t had the same experience. Again, Celica decided that it wasn’t a likely reason.

Was it her Brand? The Brand of Zofia, alongside Alm’s Brand of Rigel, were symbols of power, and heralded an important destiny for them both. But… what could her buyer hope to  _ gain _ from just one of the Brands? Her magical potential? Over and over again, Celica was getting stuck on the one point- nothing she could come up with was worth being so invested in capturing  _ her _ , specifically.

“Are you all right, Celica?” Genny asked. Celica blinked, noticing Genny was no longer writing, but staring at her, her story being deftly folded in her hands.

“...Yeah, just… caught up in thinking,” Celica told her. Genny looked down at Celica’s parchment.

“...Yeah, writing isn’t for everyone…” Genny remarked, collecting the parchment and putting it back into her spare stash.

“What were you writing about, Genny?” Celica asked. Genny blushed.

“Don’t laugh… but… it’s a story about me and Valbar… Valbar adopts me, and then he slowly begins to accept the idea of marrying me,” Genny told her, looking down at the parchment. Celica beamed.

“I think it’s wonderful that you know your dreams. Keep working on them… I’m sure that Valbar will appreciate having a new family no matter who it is,” Celica assured her, coming to give her a hug.

“Thanks, Cel…” Genny told her, patting her hand. “And I hope that, when you become queen, Mae will always be there for you…”

* * *

 

Mathilda was the first to awaken the following morning. More appropriately, she never went to sleep- not even thinking about amusing or beautiful moments about her, Clive, Clair and Fernand were enough to stop her shedding tears. She took in a breath, showing her brave face, and woke up the common soldiers, ordering them to steal anything of value from the castle before they abandoned it. She gently checked on Alm’s room, to find him and Clair sleeping gently together. She closed the door, pausing to consider how she felt, before stepping on someone.

“...Young lady, this is a  _ hallway _ . They were built so people could  _ walk _ , not  _ sleep _ !” Mathilda bellowed. Faye groaned and stirred, trying and failing to wake up.

“...So who are you, exactly?” Mathilda asked. Faye blinked, and looked up.

“I am Faye, Alm’s girlfriend before that pegasus-riding…  _ thing _ came into the picture,” Faye told her. Even from such a low position, Mathilda was sent reeling by the sheer venom in her voice- and she was sure the only reason Faye hadn’t chosen a harsher word was because she was too overcome with choices rather than any restraint.

“That pegasus rider happens to be my sister-in-law and best friend. So I won’t be tolerating such an abusive tongue. However…” Mathilda started, before being startled by a yell. She looked up, and saw Kliff run up to nab Faye.

“Seriously, Faye… what’s going on?” Kliff asked, scooping her off the ground and into his arms.

“...I have to protect Alm. Celica told me to,” Faye dryly told him, her eyes rolling about.

“Faye… this isn’t good. Sorry you had to see that, Mathilda… I’ve got to try and fix her. There’s gotta be a spell…” Kliff remarked to himself, wandering away with one around Faye, both of them muttering.

“Well… not what I was expecting from Alm’s ‘psycho’,” Mathilda muttered, turning back to Alm’s room in confusion. Thankfully, a soldier ran up to her to give her a task to reaffirm her bearings with.

“Lady Mathilda! There is a sword in the War Room which none of us can lift!” he reported, saluting. Mathilda nodded.

“Everything else can be satisfactorily looted?” Mathilda asked.

“Yes, of course. It’s just the sword,” he told her, before clicking his heels and returning to his job. Mathilda knocked on Alm’s door, and the two lovebirds jumped, hurriedly untangling themselves. Mathilda risked peeking in as they fell out of the bed, and was almost disappointed both were still in their nightclothes.

“Alm, report to the War Room as soon as you can. There is business to attend to, and my men seem incapable of picking up a sword,” Mathilda told them. Both kids laughed, to Mathilda’s satisfaction, as she departed to inventory the loot.

* * *

Celica looked around the War Room of Desaix’s castle. Even though most of the more lavish decorations had been taken down, the room gave her a chill- or maybe that was just the feeling of being in an empty room. Alm waved to her invitingly, and Celica let out a small beam. She sat down in a corner, not particularly eager to join in the conversation about supplies and so forth. To her surprise, the conversation did not start that way.

“Alm… Clive made you a captain. I consider this a strange decision, but so far, it appears to be working. I’m willing to allow you to continue in this position- after all, you are to join the noble ranks whether you like it or not, might as well learn some tools of the trade. So, Alm… what do you say?” Mathilda explained. Alm let out a weak smile- Celica knew nobility was far from his mind. But one look at Clair, and Alm had the courage to nod.

“I accept,” he said, raising his fist.

“Excellent. We march after this meeting. But right now… we should really figure out the deal with that sword,” Mathilda stated, pointing at the chest. Celica stood, and withdrew the sword from within.

“...How? My men claimed to have been unable to lift that!” Mathilda exclaimed, looking between Celica and the sword. Her eyes lit up, and she stepped around beside Celica

“Give it here,” she suggested, taking the sword- only for it to fall to the ground, her hands trapped underneath it.

“...Ow…” she muttered, biting her lip. Celica sighed, and picked up the sword again.

“...You know… I think I might know what this blade is…” Celica muttered, looking around the hilt. Alm stood, and walked over to her to help Mathilda up.

“Are you hurt?” Alm asked. She shook her head, heading back over beside Clair, and Alm turned to the sword.

“As it stands, this sword wouldn’t be of any use to anyone, so…” Alm stated, idly taking it to put back in the chest. Celica was indignant until she noticed that Alm didn’t drop to the ground with its weight.

“...I guess I was wrong. That’s  _ not _ the Sword of Royalty,” Celica stated. Alm turned to her, puzzled.

“The Sword of Royalty?” Alm asked, tilting his head.

“A Rigelian gift to Zofia. The Sword of Royalty can only be wielded by one with what it takes to take one of Valentia’s thrones. I have no idea why it would accept you as its wielder, but reject Mathilda,” Celica muttered. Alm looked at the blade, puzzled, while Clair joined a few dots in her mind.

“...But if that  _ is _ the Sword… then… Alm’s going to be Zofia’s King?” Clair asked.

“I don’t know much about the Sword. It might mean that. But it might also be the case that it can detect only so many candidates for the throne. If that is the case, Alm is nothing special in the pursuit of Zofia’s… it’ll be saying he’ll be King of Rigel,” Celica remarked. Alm laughed.

“All of this is just hypothetical, right? I’m not actually going to be the King of anything?” Alm asked. Everyone looked amongst each other.

“...Of course not, Alm. That won’t be expected of you. But you’re entitled to  _ swing _ the sword. If it’s the Sword of Royalty, the charm is  _ clearly _ defective,” Mathilda joked. Alm smirked, clipping the sword to his belt.

“...Well, I might want to practice my royal charisma on some of the soldiers. ...Not sure if I can contribute much, but tell me when we’re moving out onto Mila’s Temple,” Alm remarked, leaving the room. Mathilda turned to Clair and Celica.

“Between the two of you, make  _ sure _ you teach him how to become a strong king. Clair, I know your father threw some lessons in between the needlework. Celica, you can lift the Sword of Royalty, so I assume you’ll have some experience. Just… he’ll need the help,” Mathilda stated sharply.

“...I’ll do my best,” Clair muttered. Celica nodded, trying to think about what she had learned.

* * *

Alm looked across at the army hustling around the courtyard, finding loose gear and idle trinkets from Desaix’s time alike to gather for the convoy. Though Alm had to personally step in to tell them that perhaps they could do without that loaf of bread lying on the ground. He gave a fresh-looking soldier a quick pointer, before he bumped into Forsyth reading.

“Forsyth?” Alm asked. Forsyth jumped to his feet and stood at attention.

“Sir Alm, Lieutenant Forsyth reporting for duty, sir!” Forsyth exclaimed. Alm nodded.

“So what were you doing reading? We’re moving out soon. Very soon,” Alm pointed out. Forsyth’s face scrunched up.

“Well, Sir Alm… I… I was quite shaken to learn that Sir Clive died. So I… uh…” Forsyth babbled, before Alm smiled.

“You’re in mourning. That’s all right, captain. You’re not the only one. Just make sure you report to us on time and take as much time as you need to mourn. We just don’t want to leave you behind,” Alm told him, smiling. Forsyth nodded vigorously, and left to fall in line.

“Captain?” Python’s voice asked. Alm turned around. Python’s glance wasn’t accusatory, but Alm knew he caught on.

“I’m trying out this whole ‘being noble’ thing. I can pick up this sword, and Clair’s all but my girlfriend, so I thought I should act the part,” Alm stated cheerfully. Python scoffed.

“You’re way off, buddy. Nobles aren’t so cheerful all the time. For one,” Python told him. Alm raised an eyebrow, and stood tall.

“Python, get to work lugging firewood… or something,” Alm told him in as cold a voice as he could manage. Python blinked.

“...Yep, you don’t have that proud, noble spirit Clive has. And before you go running to Clair to ask her to teach you that, let me just say: you don’t need it,” Python told him, not lifting a finger to actually do Alm’s prescribed work.

“I don’t?” Alm asked.

“The Deliverance still has the noble and commoner hierarchy, and not all of our men are all that great of laying down and accepting that. Well, they’ve done it for centuries, but… it doesn’t mean they have to enjoy it. The knowledge that a commoner can actually ascend to nobility, and can stay there without having to overhaul his personality… that’s the sort of thing commoners need, especially when Clive and Mathilda go around preaching ‘commoners and nobles are equal’. Without that… it’s just platitudes,” Python remarked. Alm considered his response.

“I can’t say you’re wrong, Python. I’ll consider your advice when I get taught a little more about being on top. In the meantime, I… actually wasn’t kidding about the firewood thing,” Alm told him. Python rolled his eyes.

“As you wish,  _ Sir _ ,” Python remarked, moving to grab some logs. Alm’s departure from the scene was with none of the gusto he had arriving.

* * *

The march began at a brisk pace. With Mathilda at their side once more, the men who had remembered her strength before her capture were at peak morale. Clive’s death did little to weaken said resolve except in the hearts of those that knew him best. Indeed, some of said rank and file had their morale  _ boosted _ \- though no one was prepared to admit such.

“Combat formation!” Clair called. Alm followed the direction her lance pointed, and picked out the Rigelian force making their approach. Mathilda stepped forward, readying her own lance as the small force approached.

“I am Lawson of Rigel. You are the travelling party of the one named Alm, correct?” the leader of pack asked. Alm looked at Mathilda, who nodded encouragingly.

“I am Alm,” Alm called to them. Lawson nodded.

“We challenge you to a skirmish!” Lawson called, and his men raised their lances. Mathilda smirked, as the first few men approached. She thrust her lance into each one in turn, and despite the cruel descent of each blow, she landed every strike in the initial party. Lawson’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth curled into a terrifying grin. The remaining soldiers stopped, and neatly reformed a formation.

“Your strength is fearsome, Lady Mathilda,” Lawson remarked. Mathilda brought her hand to her mouth in shock, only for the pain of her burns to finally sink in. Mathilda grunted, and sunk into her horses mane. Lawson nodded.

“Sir Alm, if I may…” Lawson began, before Faye jumped forward. Her blasts of Nosferatu shot into Lawson and his three nearest cavaliers, stumbling them from their saddles. Faye looked at them curiously, as Python, Leon and Tobin shot down the three other cavaliers. Clair shot forward, and Lawson managed to dodge.

“I… I surrender…” Lawson grunted. Clair scoffed, and dismounted to help Lawson up. Lawson grunted, and held out his hand. Clair smiled, preparing to take it in return, before Lawson tightly tugged her over. Lawson pulled on his reins, spun on his horse, and ran before any of the archers could hit him- though Leon and Tobin also had to shoot around Clair’s pegasus, too.

“Rigelian traitor…” Alm growled, rushing forward to help Clair up. He looked at the remaining cavalry, who squeaked and attempted to flee. Some of these ones were shot down on the way out.

“So what was Rigel even after?” Clair grunted, dusting herself off. She turned to Mathilda, who had dismounted and was looking around some of the men.

“You there. You’re alive. Answer Clair’s question,” Mathilda barked. The Rigelian soldier turned away. Mathilda looked up at some of the other soldiers, some of whom also turned away, and others who didn’t move. Silque dismounted, and walked up to one of the Rigelians. Before she cast her Recover, she took care to place her hands over him firmly. When her light cast over the knight, he nodded.

“So what are you after?” Silque asked. The Rigelian looked for Alm.

“I cannot answer this question. I asked, but Lawson told me that we could  _ never _ let Alm know his intention. However, I do know this: Alm, you have to get stronger. I don’t know how strong you are today, but it’s not good enough. You’ll need to get stronger. Strong enough to fight an army and then Emperor Rudolf himself in single combat with no breaks. I… don’t get what this has to do with Rigel, but I have faith in Emperor Rudolf,” the soldier explained. Silque turned to Alm, who was staring in shock.

“...Alm… you’re not all right, are you?” Mathilda asked. Alm shook his head.

“I… the Emperor has so much interest in me… he’ll want me to fight me himself, won’t he? Is that normal for an army, Mathilda?” Alm asked. Mathilda considered the question.

“It’s unusual… but not unheard of. Alm, Rudolf has made it clear: he wants to fight you. He must therefore gain some advantage by fighting you. I cannot think of anything that might fit the bill, but… I can think of nothing  _ we _ gain by refusing him. He’ll do anything he can to get that fight with you. It’s probably in  _ our _ best interests that you win your fight with him. Alm, you  _ will _ get stronger,” Mathilda told him. Alm looked towards Celica.

“Nothing about Rigel’s actions adds up. We’re just missing too much of the picture. But Alm…” Celica started, before nervously going to fiddle with her fingers. Clair smirked, and finished her statement.

“If the going gets tough, we’re busting you out of that, to hell with Rudolf,” Clair told him, winking.

“But that’s no excuse to slack off,” Mathilda hurriedly stated, though her own lips were uptilted slightly. Alm drew the Sword of Royalty, and gave a few practice swings- the last of which staggered him.

“You have a  _ long _ way to go,” Gray snarked.


	14. Tatters of Compassion

Over the course of the trek, all pauses for breaks longer than an hour were punctuated by Alm sparring one of the higher ranked of the Zofian army. Alm was making his match easily against infantry opponents like Forsyth and Kamui, if not necessarily beating them without breaking a sweat like the Rigelian had suggested. Alm wasn’t concerned about improving that performance until he could best the mounted Mathilda and Clair consistently- though the score wasn’t deplorable, both opponents still bested him more times than he did them. Celica and her mages had not volunteered to train against him yet, although Celica had offered a confrontation of the verbal variety.

“Alm, don’t fight him at all,” Celica had asked, though out of earshot of Mathilda. “Fight him with words, not swords. Proving you’re the biggest bully around doesn’t help our cause.”

“On what grounds do you say that? Rudolf has all but issued a challenge. As a knight in all but title, is it not my job to accept?” Alm asked.

“Alm… no, no it’s not. War is not something to be encouraged. You’re going to keep dragging these soldiers away from their homes, risking their lives… just so you can accept a duel with the Rigelian Emperor? Alm, Rigel prizes strength. That man is the most dangerous person in all of Valentia,” Celica told him, hands clasped in fear.

“Celica, if I don’t do anything, Rigel will just march on us again and again, killing our people in their homes instead of on a battlefield. I’m sure it’s of great comfort to their families that they’ll all die together. Meanwhile, Mila’s whole disappearing act is starving Zofia, and the last thing you need as Queen is constant reports of your people being massacred by the village. Celica, Ram is gone. Lukas’s home of Hog is gone. Stamped out by a Rigelian Knight. And you’d have us not attempt to stop them?” Alm retorted, his fists clenched.

“...I’m not sure why you’re so eager to take on Rigel. You’d be right at home among them,” Celica almost spat. Alm’s retort was broken by the sound of a shuddering gasp. Alm looked up and around for one of Delthea’s energy fields, while Celica rushed over to encounter the dying knight.

“Wait… Fernand?” Alm asked. Fernand looked over at him, and Alm had to admit that Fernand was not particularly recognisable- Alm only managed from the back. From the front, there were scars and matted blood.

“...What happened?” Alm asked.

“When did you leave our party, anyway,” Celica asked.

“At this point, I didn’t question it,” Alm remarked, grinning. Fernand sighed dramatically.

“...Milady, I have had a hatred for the common folk since they killed my family. But… I’ll admit it. I was wrong to let that cloud my judgement so. That Berkut knight… he was a commoner once, wasn’t he? That power…” Fernand muttered.

“And the power of us commoners was ever in the question?” Alm asked, smirking. Fernand growled.

“No need to criticise me, Alm. I’ve learned my lesson… if only I wasn’t about to die, that might’ve mattered. As it is, I’m going to die here…” Fernand muttered.

“I can heal you…” Celica muttered.

“No, don’t bother… I don’t deserve someone of your noble stature healing me. I… for everything I have done, I’ll… I’ll only slow you down. I’ll only get in the way.  Amazily… I’m coming back…” Fernand muttered. Alm looked at him uncomfortably.

“...I guess my only regret is that I won’t be able to say goodbye to Mathilda and Clair. I believe it’s for the best, though… after what I’ve done to you, Alm, they’ll never forgive me in time…” Fernand remarked.

“...I’m not sure you’re supposed to make me hate you on your deathbed…” Alm told him. Fernand let out a gentle smile.

“Why not? That was my entire life. Tell Mathilda… I’m sorry. She deserved better,” Fernand growled. His head slumped, and he breathed no more.

“...Do you see what we face, Celica? How many more need to die in the pursuit of peace? I will not sit idly by and let another Zofian family die. I’ve got to end this war the only way I can…” Alm told her. Celica hefted up Fernand, and jerked her head back to camp.

* * *

That night, the night before they arrived at the Temple, Celica stepped in to Alm’s meeting about the upcoming fight to be had. Clair had apparently managed to scout out some details on the upcoming confrontation, and the three were furiously planning their upcoming approach. Celica was impressed by how confidently Mathilda asserted herself, especially in contrast to Clive.

“Alm, if the enemy doesn’t see our troops as a threat, they’re not going to deploy Delthea quickly,” Mathilda explained.

“But Delthea can just jump out of anywhere! We need to be a collective force to make sure we can subdue her when he pops up,” Alm pointed out.

“That’s why we must choose our teams carefully, and make sure each party has a subduer,” Mathilda told him. Alm considered her remark.

“Do we have enough men? You seem to have a lot more parties than we can count on,” Clair pointed out.

“Do you feel no grief?” Celica asked. Mathilda looked up at her in confusion.

“Grief for whom?” Mathilda asked.

“ _ Fernand _ ! Your friend just died!” Celica exclaimed. Mathilda and Clair looked between one another.

“Fernand is not worth our grief in wartime,” Mathilda told her.

“That pompous fool is not worth  _ my _ grief for how he treated Alm!” Clair screamed indignantly.

“Clair… I’m…” Alm stuttered. Clair turned to him, smiling and stunning Alm.

“Clair! Is this the time for flirting?” Celica exclaimed. Clair turned back to her, her smile gone.

“I wasn’t aware that the only reaction to death was to burst into tears! Clive wouldn’t have wanted me to abandon my spirit that easily! Er…” Clair exclaimed.

“...Her point is correct. Clive and Fernand wanted us to fight on, not go home and become wailing widows. If you must think us mourning, Clair’s love for Alm may be considered a coping mechanism,” Mathilda told her. Alm chuckled, and Clair sidled closer to him, sinking her head into his shoulder.

“Clair…” Alm muttered. Celica sobbed.

“What about Faye, Alm? She loves you,” Celica pointed out. Alm looked down.

“...I like Faye. But I  _ need _ Clair. Faye is always welcome to join me where I go from here… the problem is, she won’t follow,” Alm told her.

“And you’ll leave her like that? Alm… do you know what she’ll do if she doesn’t have you?” Celica asked.

“Celica, please, with all the questions you’re asking, it’s almost like you’re trying to pick a fight,” Alm remarked, approaching her.

“So what if I am? Maybe I just don’t like how callous you all are,” Celica yelled. Mathilda lunged forward, knocking aside everything on the table, but Alm moved first.

“If you don’t like the way we react to the death of someone who’s done nothing but be a thorn in our side for petty reasons for the past year or so, why are you still following us?” Alm asked, his voice raising slightly.

“...Maybe I’ll go out on my own. The Temple’s just ahead… I won’t need your help come this time tomorrow,” Celica yelled, storming from the tent. Mathilda was left staring at the mess she had made until Clair came to help tidy everything up. Alm had turned to staring at his brand. Their marks were so similar… how did everything turn out so  _ different _ ?

* * *

Genny sat idly by as Mae brushed her hair. Mae added some powder to her cheeks, and and gave the tip of her ponytails a twirl.

“Mae, why are you looking so sweet for Cel?” Genny asked.

“Why not? Celica deserves a cute little girl, especially since she’s a princess. Thought I’d give it a try,” Mae told her. Genny smiled nervously, and Mae got to her feet. She and Genny left the tent, to find Celica storming by in a huff. Mae looked in the direction Celica came from, but Genny clasped her hand.

“Cel,” Genny told her. Mae turned after Celica, and saw her stopping to sob underneath a tree outside camp. A few of the soldiers looked her way uncertainly, but seeing Mae barrel her way towards her told them that they were fine to go about their business. Mae stomped beside Celica, and pressed her lips against her cheek. Celica looked up at not the delicate little wife Mae was intending to try out, but the fierce girlfriend who’d fight down an army if they ticked Celica off.

“Mae…” Celica muttered.

“Celica. What happened?” Mae growled. Celica stuttered.

“It’s just Alm… and those Deliverance girls. They just… I just… HAVE THEY NO COMPASSION?” Celica complained. Mae felt her fire burn to the surface.

“Celica…” Genny stuttered, not entirely sure what she wanted to say.

“...Mae, I just… how do they not mourn their loved ones?” Celica asked. Genny raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Who’s not mourning who?” Genny asked. Celica looked up.

“Alm, Clair, Mathilda not mourning Clive and Fernand,” Celica told her. Genny’s reaction was something akin to a laugh choked up in a cough.

“Celica, you have  _ not _ seen Mathilda after she goes to her tent. She does nothing  _ but _ cry. I don’t think she’s slept until last night, actually…” Genny remarked.

“And you know this because…” Mae asked. Genny coughed.

“I… also have sleep troubles. I allow her to cuddle me, and we both can feel a little better about ourselves. Last night, I managed to get some sleep!” Genny remarked. Celica sighed.

“Oh, Genny… I’m sorry, it’s my fault you’ve been having nightmares. But we’ll be at the Temple of Mila soon… everything should be all right again,” Celica stated. Mae and Genny looked between each other.

“Yeah…” they agreed, whatever uncertainty they had eluding Celica’s notice.

* * *

Alm looked over the land before them. Arcanists were prowling the Temple, and the land lay before them. The impending battle would ravage that land… but there was no choice. They had to take back the Temple. They had to find Mila, and more importantly, stop the sluice gate held underneath from bursting.

“Alm,” Luthier’s voice called.

“Is it about your sister?” Alm asked. Luthier nodded, glaring as he spoke.

“Delthea… I know that you don’t want to save her this time. And I’m not fond of the idea myself. But-” Luthier began.

“Luthier, we are saving Delthea. End of story,” Alm told him. Luthier gasped and spluttered.

“Alm, you have… nothing to handle her. She can wipe the floor with you. She _ has _ killed your own. I don’t know why you’re so eager to save her at any cost,” Luthier snarled. Alm looked at him stoically.

“Luthier, you told us to rescue your sister. I’m almost emotionally invested in it myself. It  _ will _ be done,” Alm told him.

“If you’re sure… I mean, I’ll admit her magic will be a boon to your cause if you can release her from her hold. But how do you intend to manage that? You lost a  _ leader _ last time you tried,” Luthier asked.

“...The enchantment wouldn’t happen to lose power if we take out the guy casting it, right?” Alm asked. Luthier nodded.

“Theoretically, that would be Tatarrah, the guy in charge here. But what makes you think you can take him down before Delthea wipes the floor with you?” Luthier asked. Alm’s eyes widened, as the plan unfolded before his eyes. He turned to Mathilda, and told him some specifics. Mathilda nodded, and led her horse to the front of the pack.

“Mages, to the front. Mercenaries, follow behind. Remember to watch for Delthea, but shoot to disable her. Otherwise…  _ charge _ !” Mathilda called. The force began their approach, Alm hopping on Clair’s pegasus to survey the field. Clair kept a firm hold on her mounts reins, ready to shoot forth at a moment’s notice. Arcanists and gargoyles spilled from within the temple’s fortifications, and the army made their natural formations to defend. The mages ran at the Arcanists, while the mercenaries rushed to defend them from gargoyles. The cavalry circled around, looking for strays of either party, while the archers shot down anything that looked funny. Alm knew a well-placed Delthea would shatter their order…

“There!” Alm called. Delthea had appeared within striking distance of Tobin, charging forward. Clair shot downwards, dropping Alm from above to land on her before darting overhead towards the Temple. Alm ducked Delthea’s Aura, and charged forward. Delthea glared sharply at Alm, and launched a massive burst of flames forward. Alm grunted, allowing himself to take the blast as he continued charging. Delthea readied a smaller fire, only for the blunt of Alm’s sword to strike her and interrupt the attack. Alm, fuelled almost entirely on blind fury, took the cloth in his hand to her mouth, taking advantage of Delthea’s surprise to shove her to the ground with him.

“TOBIN!” Alm called, not having the strength of mind to recall anyone else nearby. Tobin turned to him, and rushed to his side. Delthea was thrashing against the weight of Alm atop her, working the quick gag out of her mouth to prepare her next spell that would no doubt finish him off. Tobin pulled out a spare bandage, and wrapped it around Delthea’s head, shoving the cloth back in.

“I don’t want you killing anyone… I can’t let you go killing people… I  _ won’t _ let you free,” Tobin muttered, sitting not on Delthea, but in such a way Delthea’s arms were much harder pressed to get to her gag. Tobin could only pray her teleportation was somehow neutered by what Alm was doing.

“How long are we keeping her like this?” Tobin asked.

“...Until Clair and Mathilda deal with Tatarrah,” Alm muttered. Tobin gulped. He hoped they were up to the task.

Of course, it vaguely registered that Clair and Mathilda  _ failing _ had worse consequences than just leaving this little girl trapped for too long.

* * *

Clair calmly tossed her javelins at the arcanists, their mirey miasmas of magic doing barely enough damage to worry. She opened the door so Mathilda could enter, and on cue, Faye’s Physic gave her some strength to handle Tatarrah. The wizened arcanist leered at the two, his magic balling between his crooked hands.

“Mathilda, you told me fairy tales  _ weren’t _ real,” Clair remarked. Mathilda chuckled, and lunged forward to make the first strike. Clair looked after her, her puzzlement still evident, but she had her javelins ready. Mathilda cantered away, and Clair threw three perfect shots and two missed ones into the old man while Mathilda was away. Mathilda’s second charge gave a solid hit, but one of the javelins sticking out of him knocked her Blessed Lance out of her hands.

“Mathilda, we’ve got to work on our co-ordination again,” Clair remarked.

“I don’t recall your brother ever let us train in that to begin with,” Mathilda growled, watching as Tatarrah conjured a large skull. The skull’s jaw opened, and a purple fog spilled out.

“You brute,” Clair chuckled, spinning her lance around before lunging forward and thrusting it into Tatarrah’s skull- the one on his body. It burst into a cloud of dust, and the robes he wore sunk to the ground, nothing inside them.

“...OK, that wasn’t Tatarrah…” Mathilda muttered, her Blessed Lance in hand again. She looked around, puzzled, until a circle of runes appeared underfoot. She found herself whisked to Faye’s side, where she saw no gargoyle corpses. The surviving arcanists had vanished too, nothing but robes left- though their corpses  _ were _ still there.

“...Was that Tatarrah?” Mathilda asked. Faye summoned Clair to her side, who rushed to Alm.

“We’ve gotta risk it. Take it out,” Clair ordered. Tobin nodded, cutting the bandage out, and pulling the cloth out carefully.

“What are you doing, you craven rogues? Let go of me this instant!” Delthea yelled. Alm, with help from Tobin, was pushed off Delthea, and pulled to his feet- and with Faye’s magic, he recovered the strength to stay that way.

“Sorry… you were being controlled by Tatarrah, and that was the best way I knew to stop you killing our whole army,” Alm told her. Delthea leaned forward.

“I don’t remember that. You’re lying to me… but I will say you’re kinda cute,” Delthea told him. Alm blinked.

“Um… should I be worried?” Alm asked.

“No way, buddy! Kidnappers or no, I’m signing up to whatever this cause is fighting for. Come on, let’s go kick some bad guy butt!” Delthea exclaimed.

“Probably, Alm. Delthea, sister…” Luthier muttered, approaching Delthea.

“They got you too, Lu? Well don’t worry, I’ll work hard enough that they can return you to your books,” Delthea told him, a giggle at the corners of her mouth. Clair smirked knowingly.

“This… this is astounding. Don’t worry, Alm, I shall research this phenomenon,” Luthier remarked, leaving the scene.

“I will talk to Delthea,” Clair assured him, taking Delthea’s hand and leading her to one side. Alm turned to Mathilda.

“What happened?” Alm asked.

“I hope we killed Tatarrah. He seemed too… well, his skull exploded and nothing but dust came out. I’m… well, Delthea isn’t interested in killing us, so I’m hoping he’s dead,” Mathilda told him.

“...Celica, you don’t mind if I accompany you… just in case, right?” Alm asked. Celica was still staring at the Temple.

“...Sure, Alm. I don’t know what you expect to kill with me and Celica zapping fools, but an extra sword never goes amiss!” Mae told him, taking Celica’s hand and tugging her along to the Temple.

* * *

Clair led Delthea by the hand to a fair distance away from the pack, and spun around to take Delthea’s bare shoulders.

“All right, Delthea. I know you know you’re not getting kidnapped by us,” Clair told her. Delthea’s jaw dropped.

“Whaaaaat? What gave you that idea?” Delthea asked, pouting.

“I saw you giggling when you were talking to Luthier. You’re trying to get some fun out of the idea, aren’t you?” Clair asked.

“Well, yeah,  _ obviously _ . Finally out of the village, away from Luthier’s constant stuffy lectures, and I’m joining an army led by such a cute boy? Why  _ not _ have a little fun, don’t ya think?” Delthea asked. Clair smiled.

“A little fun never hurt anybody. But this  _ is _ a war party, so I recommend you take the situation with… some seriousness,” Clair told her. Delthea nodded.

“Yeah, sure. I’m not gonna press the kidnapping thing. So what  _ is _ the commander into?” Delthea asked.

“I think you’ll find ‘the commander’ has more girlfriends than he needs already,” Faye’s dull tone sounded, as she emerged from the woods nearby. Clair turned to her, and awkwardly smiled.

“What she said. Alm’s love is currently torn between Faye here and I. It’s… well, I don’t intend to sound overly confident, but I think I’ll wind up Alm’s lover in the end, if only because circumstance drives Alm and Faye apart. But for the sake of Faye’s mental health, I’d recommend not inserting yourself into the race,” Clair told her.

“You’re worried about hurting her feelings, even though she’s stopping you from getting your boyfriend?” Delthea asked, scoffing slightly.

“...Well, she’s not been taking to the facts well, and we’re all worried about her,” Clair told her. Faye glared at her.

“Clair… Alm… will… Alm…” Faye muttered, starting to shiver. Delthea’s eyes widened, and she hid behind a tree. Clair placed her hands on Faye’s shoulders.

“Faye, you will always be Alm’s precious friend. Never forget that- Alm will  _ never  _ turn you away. But Alm is going to have to take to nobility after the war, and if you don’t want to follow him, you’ll have to accept that you cannot live together as a joy-filled couple… I’m sorry, Faye, but that’s just how it must be…” Clair told her. Faye looked up at Clair, and Clair realised how  _ short _ Faye was compared to her.

The poor girl was lost and confused… and yet Clair, Alm, Kliff and everyone else had to try their hardest to help her stay sane. And unfortunately, being left behind would probably have done her  _ worse _ .

“Alm…” Faye muttered.

“...Oh dear. I’ll take you to Kliff,” Clair remarked. She turned to Delthea, eyes narrowing, and gave her a solid smack.

“Ow… what was that for?” Delthea asked indignantly.

“You killed my brother… I had to get that out of my system. Now come along…” Clair informed her, before she led Faye along. Delthea followed, looking at both girls with a sense of… vague sympathy. She vowed to herself to figure out how to establish a good rapport with whoever she needed to.

* * *

Celica and Mae returned from the massive hall. Alm had checked some of the off-shoot passages, and with the girl’s return, he got the answer he expected.

“Mila’s gone!” Mae exclaimed. Alm grunted in reply, wondering just what would need to happen now. The sound of hooves echoed, and Alm turned to Mathilda with concern. Except it wasn’t Mathilda who had barged in.

“...Who are you?” Celica asked. The knight and his passenger dismounted, and the knight knelt before Alm and Celica.

“Milady Anthiese,” his deep voice echoed around the Temple. Celica and Mae, meanwhile, were preoccupied with the other rider.

“Nomah?” Celica asked. Mae jumped back from Celica, and Nomah slowly approached.

“It is as I feared… Mila is gone,” Nomah muttered. The knight got to his feet, and Alm turned to look at him. He wore a plain mask over his eyes, but apart from that, he looked like a plain knight in white armour.

“I was witness to Rigelian forces, led by Emperor Rudolf, enter the temple. I followed them, only to be repelled by the strength of Mila. I was hopeful… until I was repelled no longer. I fear I do not know what has happened to Mila, but I do know she is unable to help anyone in her current state,” the knight remarked.

“Oh mother… now what, Celica?” Mae asked. Celica looked down, flushed with worry- now she needed to do something about that.

“Well, now we know what happened to all those crops. Mila’s gone, and she took her bounty with her,” Alm remarked.

“And we’ll have to go get her back,” Celica stated. Mae turned to her, jaw agape.

“You’re going to charge on Rigel? Celica, we asked Alm to take us  _ this _ far. And we’re not exactly on good terms with him- he’s not going to follow us to Rigel!” Mae told her. Alm opened his mouth, before realising just what he was agreeing to do in joining Celica.

“But my dear… surely your destined one would be  _ glad _ to escort you to aid Mila?” Nomah asked, walking towards Celica, nudging Alm along. He placed one hand on his shoulder, and one hand on hers.

“...Wait,  _ what _ ?” Alm asked.

“ALM?” Celica followed up.

“ _ My _ Celica dating Alm? You’re mad!” Mae exclaimed. Nomah stammered, looking between the aghast children.

“...But I…” Nomah stammered, looking between the children… no, they were still underage, but they were no children.

“Nomah, did you try to keep Boey away from me because you wanted to keep me ‘pure’ for Alm?” Celica asked. Nomah glanced downward- all the answer she needed.

“Oh, Nomah… you mean well, but you did Boey more harm than me good, especially after, well…” Celica told him. Nomah turned to Mae, who shook her head vigorously.

“I understand… but the children of the Brands are not to unite as one?” Nomah asked.

“No, Nomah. Clair loves me, Faye loves me. I have no room for Celica even if we were compatible,” Alm told him.

“And I love Mae… I hardly feel anything for Alm. I hardly feel for boys in general…” Celica observed.

“Because they wouldn’t let you hug Boey, or because of the pirates?” Mae asked.

“...I honestly don’t think it was either. I just… well, I never wanted a boyfriend,” Celica muttered. Mae smiled, putting her hand in Celica’s. Celica blushed, and looked at Nomah.

“Yes, well… I suppose that part of the prophecy  _ wasn’t _ in the same colour ink as the rest. Very well. So the two Branded are to go their separate ways- Alm will continue to pursue Rigel, and Celica will travel in search of Mother Mila. Permit me and Sir Conrad to join your cause,” Nomah stated.

“Of course, Nomah. You’re welcome to come aboard. Just have a good apology ready for Boey,” Celica assured him.

“Excellent. Now, Princess Anthiese… I believe that it is high time you took on this,” Conrad told her, holding out a tiara of sorts. Celica took it, looking at it with some concern.

“This is Lady Liprica’s circlet. Wearing it is proof of your royal blood,” Conrad stated. Celica moved to put it atop her head, before pausing.

“...So I’m to be put in the responsibility of my queenly duties as well?” Celica asked. Conrad nodded.

“Obviously, a large bulk of that is waived in this wartime situation, but yes, there is a burden in bearing it. You are the hope of Zofia’s people… but that is true whether you wear it or not,” Conrad told her. Celica turned to Mae, who shivered in concern.

“I… I accept… I, Anthiese of Zofia, accept the crown of Zofia... until the war’s end,” Celica stated, putting the crown on. Nomah and Conrad sunk to their knees. Alm stepped forward.

“You…” Alm started.

“I have nothing for the throne other than my bloodline, which is tarnished by the way my father left it. I must do what is right by Zofia and leave a loophole for Mathilda to claim the title,” Celica remarked. Alm shook his head.

“You do have what it takes to be Zofia’s queen… but I suppose it is a matter of what happens during the war, isn’t it? Very well, then… Anthiese,” Alm told her, inclining his head.

“Celica is fine. If I am to be queen, it is with Celica’s deeds and successes, not Anthiese’s bloodline,” Celica assured him.

“Very well, Celica… forgive me, may I call you Anthiese? Celica feels wrong to me, somehow,” Conrad muttered.

“I guess you can. So where are we going?” Celica asked.

“To the Sage’s Hamlet. Halcyon will know what to do,” Conrad told her. Celica nodded, and turned to go open the sluice gate.

* * *

Berkut growled, prowling his chambers as he heard the news. The sluice gate had been taken- and now the Zofians would march on Rigelian soil.

“Why must those insufferable Zofians continue to meddle in affairs that are not theirs?” Berkut mumbled, looking amongst his lances and choosing one that would help him fight the mages effectively. He made a mental note to remember to find some archers to deal with the pegasus knight.

“Rinea, darling, I’m going to try and put a pin in those Zofians,” Berkut announced. Rinea entered the room, looking rather darling in a ruffled, princess-y dress.

“What about your promise to wait until Alm was your equal? I was looking forward to that, a little,” Rinea asked.

“So was I, but my country comes first. I cannot allow Alm to march on Rigel. I must stop him now,” Berkut told her.

“And I’m coming with you,” Rinea told him, summoning a staff to hold in her left hand.

“Out of the question. You have no combat training… I’m not going to let you fight the Zofians. Alm might still be wet behind the ears and without the experience a knight needs, but Mathilda is the opposite,” Berkut told her.

“Berkut… I have been taking combat lessons. I’m not as good as, say, Tatiana yet, but I know Physic and Invoke. Berkut, I… I worry about you too, and I want to show Rigel that I  _ am _ a true Rigelian noble. I will show that I am a strong Empress to my even stronger Emperor. Berkut, will you permit me this?” Rinea asked. Berkut watched her swing her staff, seeing a somewhat stiff yet well-practiced casting movement.

“...I will allow you to accompany me. Please stay nearby, though… I know I shall fight much more bravely with you by my side,” Berkut told her.

“As shall I, my Lord Berkut,” Rinea told him, approaching. Berkut stepped forward, pulling her into the hug.

* * *

Kliff scowled at Delthea as she fidgeted again. He knew the girl was only thirteen, but still… he was  _ sure _ he was more disciplined than that at that age. Faye started to stir, and Kliff turned to her, the annoyance in his eyes fading as he watched her stir. She sat upright, looking vaguely at Delthea.

“...Who is she?” Faye asked. Delthea pouted.

“The girl we rescued from Tatarrah,” Kliff told her. Faye looked at her again.

“I… remember. She hurt Alm… right?” Faye asked. Kliff smirked.

“Well, yeah, but she wasn’t herself at the time,” Kliff told her. Faye looked at Delthea again.

“She’s… she’s cute…” Faye observed. Kliff turned to her, and found himself agreeing. Delthea was rather cute, in her own mischievous way.

“Indeed,” Kliff remarked. Faye started to sob.

“Faye?” Kliff asked, wondering what had happened.

“Alm left me… you won’t leave me, will you?” Faye asked. Kliff looked at Delthea, his eyes pleading for help.

“Aw, come on, Miss Faye, you can’t be  _ that _ clingy! Sure, it sucks to lose people, but there’s always going to be someone better just around the corner. Besides, Kliff cares an awful lot about you, don’t ya think?” Delthea asked. Faye looked at Kliff, who was starting to blush at Delthea’s words.

“Me… and Kliff?” Faye asked. She looked at him, and lunged forward. Her lips met his, and her eyes widened.

“Faye…” Kliff remarked, withdrawing.

“Kliff?” Faye asked, doing the same with some trepidation.

“Faye, I… I’m not… I…” Kliff stuttered.

“Oh drat…” Delthea muttered. Faye turned to her, looking at her strangely.

“I… Kliff… Alm…” Faye muttered. Delthea frowned.

“I’m so sorry for what I did to Kliff… because I have no idea what I can do. Goddamn it all, I’m a  _ natural _ , I never studied how to do anything like this… I’m probably still better than Lu, though,” Delthea remarked, leaning in and giving Faye a good old-fashioned hug.


	15. You're Welcome

Celica’s party stopped in a Rigelian town at the shores of Valentia, planning on resupplying before they marched to find Mila. Celica looked up at the boats only briefly, before retreating to an inn to rest. Boey watched her and Mae go, thinking of how frequently they had done so since they had left Alm. Since Genny and Kamui were handling resources, he decided to visit port and watch the coming and going of the sailors. One ship caught his eye, and he approached warily. Three women were on deck, two clad in light, cavalry-ish armour, and one in a pink robe… with a slit down her leg… and hugging her curves… Boey blinked, and looked closer at the robed girl’s face. Fine brown hair was held back in a long braid, exposing a refined face marred by sorrow. Somehow, it felt familiar to him…

“When will I know to come back for you?” the girl in the robes asked.

“You don’t have to, Linde. We can find our own way. We’re old enough for that much,” one of the knights told her.

“Hah, true… I just… find her,” the girl, Linde stated, starting to get flustered. Boey felt a shift in his heartrate, and made to go closer in spite of himself.

“We will, Linde,” Catria stated, and the two knights disembarked, passing Boey without a second thought as they rushed to help their pegasi follow them. Boey watched them wistfully, before rushing onto the deck.

“Linde, was it?” Boey asked. Linde jumped, and light magic came to her fingertips.

“...Who are you…?” Linde asked.

“My name is Boey. I’m a retainer to a royal, even if the current social state is… er, bad,” Boey remarked.

“Ours isn’t great either. We’re still rebuilding from a war, and now Est’s gone…” Linde told her. Boey chuckled.

“We’re still  _ in _ our war,” Boey told her. Linde smiled.

“I’m needed in Archanea. My own liege is getting married, and, well… it’s something she needs my help with,” Linde told her.

“That’s all right… I just felt like I recognised you, somehow…” Boey told her. Linde stepped forward, holding her hand out. Boey held out his own hand, and Linde took it. Boey felt his heart jump to his throat, as Linde gave him a gentle smile.

“...You’ll bring the Whitewings back, right? I’d like to see you again under less dire circumstances to yourself,” Linde asked. Boey nodded, and Linde gave him a kiss on the cheek before returning to her cabin. Boey noticed the pegasi were on shore before rushing off the boat. He didn’t want to follow her back to Archanea  _ yet _ .

* * *

Genny sat in the corner of the tavern, waiting for Kamui to return with a dinner. Until then, she was staying small, hoping none of the many patrons decided to take a look at her. She was at least confident Kamui would put a stop to it, but still… she had almost met the auction block once. She looked up, and noticed two female knights had sat at her table, talking quietly amongst themselves. She made to speak up, before hearing that very thing…

“Who knows what’s happening to poor Est right now…”

Genny immediately put a stop to her vocalisation, and went to listen. The two knights names were Palla and Catria, and they were from a faraway country called Macedon. Their sister Est was lost in a runaway pirate attack, and their queen Minerva had given them leave to find her and bring her back. Their bickering about figuring out how was lost on her, as she started imagining Est (who looked much like herself) being pulled out from the bandit’s grasp by the motherly-looking green-haired knight, while the blue-haired fighter threw fireballs back at the half-naked at best men.

“What are you girls doing here?” Kamui’s voice asked. Genny jumped on instinct, but it was the older knight who responded.

“Oh, is this table taken… my apologies. I didn’t notice,” Palla remarked, standing to leave. Genny squeaked, and shook her head. Catria looked around, noticing no other table appeared to be open.

“...Or we could stay here, Palla. They don’t seem to mind,” Catria remarked. Palla nodded, and sat back down, turning to watch Kamui give Genny her dinner before taking some food for himself. The rest went into a bag, for who Kamui said were travelling companions not currently here. Kamui looked up at Palla, who had sent Catria to get their own food.

“So, what are you girls up to?” Kamui asked. Palla smiled, and explained the situation to him.

“Kidnapped girl, huh? That’s how I met Genny here,” Kamui told her. Palla gasped, looking at the youth. Genny found herself flushed with embarrassment, as Palla brought her chair around to pull Genny into a comforting hug. Palla left a bright smile on her face as she stroked Genny’s back, and Genny began to feel more comfortable in the older girl’s grip.

“I am the eldest sister of the Whitewings, Palla. I’m used to this…” Palla told Kamui, who nodded.

“She was with two other girls, but she’s the one who seems the most shaken. Thanks for the comfort,” Kamui told her.

“What can I say? Little sisters are my weakness. So where are you lot headed?” Palla asked, nodding as Catria brought along their meal.

“Our patron goddess Mila got taken from her temple and led somewhere in Rigel. We’re going to go find her,” Kamui stated simply. Palla gasped.

“A goddess? Surely not,” Palla exclaimed. Kamui shrugged.

“I’ve learned to doubt things I haven’t seen, as the saying goes. But until today, I never doubted  _ that _ . Perhaps she’s a merely powerful being, but the fact remains her absence means the fields of Zofia lie fallow, and god or not, we need her back,” Kamui remarked.

“Reasonable. How many people do you have?” Catria asked. Kamui did a mental reassessment, double-checking his number just to be sure.

“...Seven, I think… Celica, Mae, Boey, Genny, me, Valbar, Leon, the two weirdos… nah, it’s nine,” Kamui told them. Catria almost choked on her dinner.

“We’d help you, but we’ve gotta find our sister,” Palla told them. Catria considered Kamui thoughtfully.

“...Once we’ve rescued our sister, we’ll be there,” Catria suggested.

“But how will we find them?” Palla asked.

“We’ll help you get your sister out,” Boey’s voice told them. The four diners jumped, and made room for him to join them.

“Greetings, Palla, Catria. Name’s Boey. And if I can convince Celica, which I probably can, we’ll be joining you to get Est out of that pit,” Boey told them.

“What makes you so confident, Boey?” Genny asked.

“I asked around port. Est has apparently been captured by what the Rigelians call the Bandit King, Grieth. All pirates in Valentia, if not further afield, answer to him. Including, say, Barth,” Boey told her. Genny’s eyes widened in realisation.

* * *

“Divert course?” Celica asked. Boey nodded.

“Ending the bandits once and for all, or at least giving them a  _ very _ serious concussion, is certainly a good enough reason. If you need more reasons, I’ve got them, but I was hoping reason number one would be enough,” Boey told her. Celica nodded, but Conrad was less convinced.

“Sir Boey, do you know the risk you put all of us in to add so many extra battles? Not to mention Grieth’s Citadel lies in the desert- paladins like myself can’t approach without being murdered before we get close enough,” Conrad pointed out.

“And, of course, he  _ wants _ mages and pegasus knights. Those tend to be girls, and he can  _ sell _ those,” Boey dryly remarked.

“What, he doesn’t believe in enslaving men for physical labour?” Catria asked.

“...Apparently not. Barth’s men certainly didn’t intend on either me or Saber living, but on the other hand, I’m a scrawny little runt,” Boey chuckled.

“Could also be a number of other reasons. But the fates of the men and women who charge on Grieth’s Citadel do not matter other than the fact they are fates we would rather avoid, especially with such an important mission,” Conrad told them. Boey sighed.

“All right. Let’s ignore the revenge. Let’s ignore the fact that it’s the right thing to do. If we can kill Grieth and rescue Est, we enlist the aid of  _ three _ pegasus knights. It is said that pegasi can fight against monsters with ease, is it not?” Boey asked. Conrad nodded.

“There are very few of us.  _ We need every advantage we can get _ . We’re going after Est,” Boey told him.

“True, Sir Boey,” Conrad remarked. Boey turned to Palla.

“And Whitewings of Macedon, know that I shall do everything in my power to keep you alive so that you may return to Archanea and bring peace to Linde’s heart,” Boey told them. Palla nodded.

“How do you know Linde?” Catria asked. Boey blushed as he shrugged.

“I  _ may _ have snuck on your ship and confronted her. In my defence, after we rescued our girls from Barth, I received a vision from the goddess that showed me her. Also, er… I told her I’d bring you lot back to Archanea once this war was done,” Boey explained.

“That won’t be necessary,” Catria stated immediately.

“That would be lovely,” Palla contradicted. Catria turned to Palla, and watched as she stepped closer to Boey.

“And poor Linde needs every friend she can get. I’d count on a stay in Archanea longer than a day or two,” Palla whispered. Boey nodded, still embarrassed at her words.

Though he was ready to admit, to himself of course, that the light mage did make his dreams that much more fanciful.

“Grieth is likely no pushover. But if we cannot defeat him, we have no hope of overthrowing Mila’s captor. This  _ should _ be a piece of cake…” Nomah muttered.

* * *

Sonya growled, watching her Excalibur spell dissipate on Grieth’s back. All that hard work, all that planning, and in the end, Sonya wasn’t as magically powerful as she had boasted, and Grieth could take it with ease. The girl held belowstairs would have a friend… unless, of course, Deen was as skilled with a sword as the whispers said.

“Hello, pretty,” Grieth muttered, turning to her. The rest of the bandits brandished weapons, and most of them looked like they knew how to use them. Sonya limited her reaction to tossing her hair back and contemptuously preening.

“Grieth. Don’t think this is another easy capture. I’m not going down without a fight,” Sonya told him.

“All the better. The feisty ones bring in more money,” Grieth chuckled. Sonya rolled his eyes.

“Always thinking about your slave business… you think you’re  _ so _ great, don’t you?” Sonya asked.

“Well, I haven’t always been so great… I was a lowly little lad once…” Grieth chuckled. Sonya looked on in bored anticipation.

“Now I know I can be happy as a man can be, because I have my glorious little empire now. An empire of beauties- shiny gold and beautiful babes alike!” Grieth bragged.

“You’re insane!” Sonya proclaimed, looking around for Deen. All she could see were Grieth’s bandits- no way did she have the stamina to take them alone.

“Am I? I’m just being who I am on the inside… I’m a man who knows what he wants, lass! Money makes the world go around- and after that, what else do I need? I mean… I guess a man wants food in his belly, but would you look at that?” Grieth asked. Sonya turned in disgust. A woman lurched forward, naked, gagged, hobbled, and with a collar gleaming around her neck. Sonya was ready to start her tempest now, but a few of Grieth’s observant soldiers had their hands to their swords.

“I get it handed to me on a silver platter!” Grieth laughed. The poor girl moaned, and Sonya quietly allowed her magic to hold the girl’s platter up as she stumbled. Another stagger brought her to Grieth, where said platter was immediately ignored for the girl and her breasts anyway.

“All right, that’s it!” Sonya called, her hands bursting with magic. She fired a staggering force of arrows, only for each one to bounce harmlessly to the ground and disappear as they struck Grieth. Grieth smirked.

“Now that you’ve been introduced to my Apotrophe, I think we can all agree it’s time you joined my lovely harem. Gods, all the cute girls learn how to use magic… makes it  _ so _ easy to take ‘em,” Grieth remarked. Two of Grieth’s men grabbed Sonya’s arms, and a third came with a gag.

“Hey!” a deep voice called from behind Sonya. The men turned, and the two holding her were chopped in two. The third staggered away, as Deen approached Grieth.

“I’m back,” Deen told him coolly, brandishing his Brave Sword. He charged forward, slicing Grieth as he passed him by, before turning on a dime and doing the same up and down, returning where he started. Grieth smirked, but no wounds or scratches were apparent.

“Huh?” Deen asked himself in confusion.

“Well, well, well… looks like the big Deen’s having trouble with his sword…” Grieth remarked, giving him a firm kick in the chest. Deen dropped to the ground, nothing but a quiet grunt escaping him.

“You poor little knightly mercenary… what a terrible performance. You just don’t have that ‘oomph’ anymore, man,” Grieth remarked. He leant down, and picked up the Brave Sword.

“I will give you credit… you are the one who stole my eye, after all. I got you back that day, but I was  _ never _ satisfied with how severe those wounds were…” Grieth remarked, the Brave Sword pointed at Deen’s face.

“Just like you, Deen… I have trained in the sword. With this, my swordsmanship will become superior to your own… you could send  _ armies _ my way and they’ll never be enough. I’m just too tough… you could try and try and try, but you just can’t expect a myrmidon to beat me, the Dread Fighter!” Grieth exclaimed. Deen scoffed.

“Dread Fighter? Please,” Deen growled. The words were sarcastic, but the tone was anything but. Grieth caught the gist.

“I don’t need to explain myself to you. You’re gonna die here, Deen. After all this, after you survived the ones who abandoned you… you will die at my hand,” Grieth taunted, nudging Deen onto his back, his foot on his stomach.

“Kill me now and save me the lecture,” Deen growled.

“You’re taking it well for someone who knows he’s wanted…” Grieth remarked. Deen refused to look at Sonya. He didn’t want fear in his eyes as he faced Grieth’s. But he found his gaze drawn to the woman, the woman who saved his life… and asked nothing of him but that he recovered. He couldn’t let her become just another one of Grieth’s slaves… he had to take out Grieth. Then her magic would help her. He reached for the Brave Sword again, and Grieth contemptuously held the handle just out of reach.

“Good… there’s that fear I love to see. You try to be tough, Deen… but your armour’s just not hard enough. Soak it in, buddy… because it’s the last you’ll ever see…” Grieth told him, pressing the sword to his throat.

“Sir… we appear to be marched on,” someone stated. Grieth growled, and moved to the window so fast he appeared to have teleported. He noticed the two pegasi in the sky overhead.

“Darn… how did they follow us all the way to Valentia? ...Deen,” Grieth growled. Deen looked away, as Grieth tossed the Brave Sword his way.

“Stop their advance. And guards, why isn’t that witch bound and gagged? Goddamn, give this man something we can blackmail him with,” Grieth growled. Sonya cast an Excalibur at one of the men, but two more managed to get the gag on without too much trouble. Sonya growled, looking at Deen. All Deen had on his face was a grimace.

She could only hope the pegasi could restore the legendary might of Deen. If they couldn’t, then at least they might match and surpass him, killing Grieth and saving her and their friend.

* * *

The easy part of approaching Grieth was finding the desert. Much harder was surviving it.

Palla and Catria, at least, knew a thing or two about deserts, and had made them pack plenty of fresh water, and made recommendations on looser armour. Conrad had complained about the latter, but a single day’s march through the desert was enough to convince him the girls were right. The loose clothing covering their skin helped ‘trap’ some coolness within, and also made them feel less dehydrated. But they were still downing more canteens than they reckoned they could handle to take a return trip- it was more a matter of money than foolhardiness, but it still rankled. They stopped in a checkpoint fortress, and found few usable canteens to add as they got their rest. Boey was surprised to find Mae confronted him, and he shivered slightly. He remembered the way he felt back at the priory.

“What do you want, Mae?” Boey asked, perhaps with a little more venom than necessary.

“That Linde girl… she’s more than the Whitewings’ friend to you, isn’t she?” Mae asked.

“Remember back when I rescued you from Barth? That vision I had at the statue of Mila? I’ve been thinking about that girl every night. I’m  _ positive _ it was Linde,” Boey stated. Mae scoffed.

“You hadn’t met her yet. How could you have a vision of her?” Mae asked. Boey raised an eyebrow.

“...Right. Gift of the goddess. So Mila showed you Linde, making sure you knew how pretty she was as well as how adept she was at spellwork. So you think you’re going to run off with her into Archanea and leave Celica to me?” Mae asked. Boey raised the other eyebrow.

“...We’re not going to be this romantic all the time! Someone grounded in reality is exactly what we need in a formal retainer,” Mae snapped.

“I agree, which is why I’m hesitant. But I feel like Mila showed me Linde for a reason. And I’m not comfortable not knowing what that reason is. Even if for a short while, I want to follow her,” Boey told her. Mae started blushing.

“Could you… come back quickly?” Mae asked.

“You’re not planning on cheating on Celica with me, are you?” Boey asked suspiciously.

“Don’t be daft. I… want you to have our children,” Mae whispered. Boey smirked.

“I think  _ that _ can wait, can’t it?” Boey asked.

* * *

The following morning, everything of value, whether it initially belonged to them or not, was collected, and Celica counted out their canteens. They had consumed more than a quarter of their initial supply, and the return trip had more people than the forward one.

“They’ve gotta have more at Grieth’s, right?” Mae had asked. Everyone had agreed, at least, but they still idly found themselves drinking less water than the day before. As they were approached by armed figures, the mages hurriedly finished their canteens and prepared spells.

“I’m afraid I’ve gotta stop you here,” the lead mercenary remarked. His sword was well-made in comparison to his companions, but apart from that, he didn’t look that much more well trained. The entire gaggle had eyes narrowed with healthy discipline, but the Thunder spells were enough to take out three. Another volley took out another three, leaving the commander with a mere two companions still ready to fight. Despite this, Palla and Catria veered wildly to the right. At least Leon missing the enemies could be chalked up to heat exhaustion. Deen charged in front of the mages, and slashed with the sword. Valbar stood in front of them, grinning confidently, as Kamui lunged forward. Their own swordsman was thirsty and deliberately blind, but he certainly seemed to hold his own against the other mercenary and his keen blade.

“Is that all ya got?” the foe asked gruffly, darting forward and knocking Kamui backwards. It was a testament to Kamui’s skill that he landed in such a way he could jump up again with ease- the opponent’s blow would’ve firmly injured anyone else. Kamui simply grinned, and brandished his sword.

“You can fall down now,” Kamui remarked. The opponent was simply puzzled, until a large gash in his chest became apparent.

“...Sonya…” he grunted, falling. Leon looked at the two mercenaries on either side, and shot them both point blank. Kamui simply took the sword his opponent wielded, admiring the craftsmanship.

“...Take the canteens, if they’re still there,” Celica ordered. Kamui nodded, and made sure the mages had enough water before tending to the others. Palla and Catria had returned, and shared a few canteens they had taken from a flanking troop with them. Celica realised that she hadn’t noticed their approach.

“Good work, Whitewings,” Celica remarked.

* * *

Sonya looked across her cell to the other girl, who was nervously contemplating a ring on her finger. Sonya wasn’t sure how she managed to keep it, but she could admire the strength when she considered the fact no magic emanated from her.

“So who gave you the ring?” Sonya asked. The girl looked up, and smiled as she saw a companion.

“My boyfriend, Abel. He’s one of Marth’s best knights… or, well, he was. We run a shop in Archanea… and Abel proposed to me, shortly before I got captured,” the girl told her. Sonya let out a low whistle. She hadn’t guessed the girl was old enough to be considering marriage.

“What about you, Miss? Fancy anyone?” the girl asked. Sonya smiled.

“I am not looking for a man, my dear. I have too much to grapple with in regards to my… family to consider settling down. Besides, I haven’t found any fellow worth spending  _ a _ night with, let alone many,” Sonya told her.

“That’s fair. I didn’t think marriage was for me at first… anyway, where are my manners? Name’s Est,” the girl stated, turning to smile at Sonya.

“It was my manners that were lacking. I am Sonya,” Sonya replied.

“Got any ideas for getting out?” Est asked.

“Your pegasus friends were caught flying around the desert before I got thrown in here, and the man I had agreed to help fight Grieth with was sent to fight them. The way I see it, either they turn Deen against Grieth, or they kill him and thus can overpower Grieth in the way Deen couldn’t,” Sonya suggested. Est nodded, looking above.

“My sisters can totally do either. Say… who is this Deen anyway?” Est asked, giggling.

“I don’t even know myself. All I know he is a legendary mercenary with a bone to pick with Grieth, and I did him a favour. Nothing more,” Sonya barked.

“...Well, at least you won’t be too broken up if my sisters kick Deen’s butt,” Est remarked.


	16. The Sorceress of Fear

Alm looked across the lands of Rigel, preparing himself for finally marching on to them. They would become the aggressors, striking into the heart of Rigel, so Alm could fight Emperor Rudolf. Rigel had made it clear in the token negotiations they had tried that doing that much was their only option. Mathilda approached from behind, her lance readied with much more confidence than Alm had.

“Our men are ready to move out,” Mathilda told him.

“Understood,” Alm told her, nodding vaguely. Celica had moved out ahead already, taking with her the mages, the mercenaries they had hired, and the newcomers from the temple. Not one member of the Deliverance was invited to come- and not one member was told when Celica was going to be leaving.

“Celica will be fine. She’s not going to be fighting full battles like we are,” Mathilda told him. Alm nodded, looking up and readying himself. He would be fighting Rigel’s most powerful knight in the coming storm… or he would die trying.

“Alm, come on. We’ve gotta make some distance into Rigel. Or are you thinking of cheating on Clair with Celica?” Mathilda asked. Alm jumped.

“No… nothing of the sort. Now I’m worried about Rudolf…” Alm muttered. Mathilda smiled.

“You just leave that part to us, Alm. We  _ will _ make sure you are ready to take him on. And if it looks like you’ll lose, Clair’s probably going to kill Rudolf for you, fairness be damned. But please try not to make us resort to that. We need to know  _ why _ he wants this damn single combat first,” Mathilda told him. Alm nodded. He wasn’t going to slack on his training. He wasn’t going to make Clair fight all his battles.

She was already handling all of his noble duties. He wanted to be doing  _ something  _ in the relationship.

* * *

Delthea watched Kliff and Luthier’s spells fly between them and a pair of training dummies. Kliff had casted some magic to keep the things magic-proof, and Luthier reluctantly admitted they were good. “Not as good as his own,” of course, but Luthier was reluctant to admit anything that wasn’t his was better than his. Delthea could’ve sworn he’d done so even when he hadn’t dabbled in the field at all.

“Call that casting?” Delthea asked. Kliff turned, smiling indulgently as he gestured towards the dummies. Delthea stepped forward, and let out a flurry of Aura, Seraphim and Fire. She stopped to catch her breath, deep heavy breaths.

“Delthea, you’ve done it again! This is why you’ll never become as accomplished a mage as I am!” Luthier growled. Kliff held up a hand, and approached her, casting the Recover spell. Delthea didn’t need to take such heaving breaths, but she was still finding her heart rate quite elevated. She was sure that was still her exhaustion, though.

“Delthea… you can cast complicated spells with ease, and from the feel of things, with a good bit of power. What  _ you _ need to practice is your endurance,” Kliff remarked. Delthea looked up at him in confusion.

“A flurry of attacks is good. Backed up by someone who knows potent healing spells, you could keep it up long enough to stop entire enemy squadrons. The key is to have a solid amount of energy to keep up the attacks. If you get hit in your exhausted state, you’re liable to receive wounds more grievous than normal,” Kliff stated. Delthea nodded- Luthier had said as much.

“I think you might benefit more from working on that. Try some running- start with a short jog, but go longer each time,” Kliff suggested. Delthea nodded, but turned for some water first.

“That was a really clever way of getting her out from underfoot,” Luthier remarked. Kliff looked up at him.

“And that is why you fail,” Kliff told him, before turning to his practice dummy. He considered it, before deciding to follow Delthea on her run.

* * *

Mathilda brought her hand up, as the army came onto a wide plain, bereft of any cover beyond ankle-high thickets at best. On the field’s other side was a wide army of cavalry, in the centre a knight in ebony armour. Alm growled, stepping forward in spite of himself. Berkut nudged his horse forward, chuckling in a sinister manner. Alm drew the Sword of Royals.

“Hello, Alm. Looks like you’ve scrambled together a few friends, reorganised the Deliverance, and even rescued that dame Mathilda. You might actually pose a problem. But not if I slaughter you here…” Berkut chuckled. Alm smirked.

“What happened to letting me live so that I might train and fight you another day?” Alm asked.

“You wound me, Alm. Surely you know Rudolf seeks to challenge you himself? You  _ must _ have been training for that… if you want any hope of overthrowing him, I should be a piece of cake,” Berkut told him. Alm growled.

“...And I changed my mind, too. I think I rather you dead. Dead like that old man who you called grandfather,” Berkut taunted. Alm stepped forward, only for Clair to grab his arm. Berkut chuckled again.

“Must a pretty little pegasus fight all your battles?” Berkut asked. Clair took a moment to wonder whether or not there was an insult aimed at her. Unfortunately for her, Alm did not have any such restraint, and had charged. Clair followed, and Mathilda acknowledged the unspoken order to follow with the rest of the army. Alm could not be stopped, so helping him would be more likely to save him. Clair rushed forward, but before her javelin did more than leap from its scabbard, she felt an odd magic course through her. A light blinked in front of her eyes, and she found herself facing a beautiful sorceress rather than the black knight.

“Sorry, but I’m going to have to stop you taking on Berkut. That fight is for Alm alone,” the woman told her, firing a blast of Seraphim before Clair could gather her bearings. She shook it aside, and tossed a javelin her way, piercing right through her dress, but somehow missing anything important.

The hidden advantage to a voluminous dress.

* * *

Alm glared at Berkut as the two battled, he using leaping strikes designed for use against a mounted opponent, while Berkut countered with wide, sweeping strokes of his lance. As Alm tucked and rolled away from one of his strikes, the sweep of the tip hit his side, and he felt a sting in his side. Alm pushed the lance away, and noticed the cross at the lance tip- it had seemed ornamental at first glance, but the red stain on one side proved they were a mere alternative angle of inflicting wounds.

“Such a pity… you shall never rise up as Emperor, child. You will die here, and I shall rise up in your stead. And I shall prove that I, and I alone, can bring Rigel the glory it deserves,” Berkut remarked. Alm grunted, his hand placing pressure on the wound. A warm feeling arose within, and Alm was sure of his loss. Except… the stickiness of the blood felt like it was reducing. He looked up, and noticed Faye’s staff raised, a green light flowing towards him.

“What? No! That’s cheating!” Berkut called. Alm got to his feet, and brandished the Sword of Royalty. He jumped, and Berkut brought up the lance to counter. He didn’t quite manage to put the heft behind it to block, and Alm landed atop him. With a small amount of effort, Berkut fell back and off his horse, Alm atop him. Alm got to his feet, his sword pointed down.

“This is for my grandfather. For everyone in Ram and Hog and every other village you slaughtered,” Alm growled, rearing back. Berkut watched the sword come down…

“SIR!” Rinea’s voice called. The Sword of Royalty stopped, the steel pressing against Berkut’s neck, almost piercing through.

“Yes?” Alm asked.

“Don’t kill him!” Rinea ordered. Berkut growled, but looked away so she wouldn’t see him blushing. He was grateful for her, at least.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t, milady,” Alm ordered. Rinea smiled, and cast a spell. A glyph appeared before her, and Clair appeared within, staggering to the ground. Rinea stepped forward, a high heel pressing against her belly.

“How’s this for a reason?” Rinea asked. Alm and Berkut gasped, and Clair grinned nervously.

“...Clair for Berkut, girl. And you’ll withdraw to Rigel Castle, and not fight us again,” Alm ordered.

“You’re in no position to make threats,” Rinea pointed out.

“Neither are you,” Alm stated. Rinea looked at Berkut.

“...I can’t promise we’ll stay out of your hair. But I’ll  _ try _ to keep him in line,” Rinea stated. Her heel left Clair, and nudged her. Clair got to her feet, and ran to Alm. Alm jumped off Berkut, and Rinea cast her summoning spell, bringing him to her side.

“...Thank you, sir,” Rinea stated. She waved her staff expectantly, but nothing appeared to happen. Berkut chuckled, and called his horse. He pulled her onto his lap and rode back to the castle.

“...I’m sorry, Alm…” Clair remarked. Alm shook his head.

“We’ll get him next time… I’ll be able to take him on alone by then. Faye, am I all right to spar with Mathilda?” Alm asked. Faye approached, and Alm pulled his armour up and away.

“...I’d suggest against it,” Faye remarked. Alm groaned, but gave her a hug as he ordered a rest. Silque came over, and shot Faye a glare before looking at the wound herself.

* * *

Mathilda looked at some reports, not particularly caring about their content. She was more worried about Alm and Clair. She had found herself doing it a lot lately- she suspected it was her way of mourning Clive. At the same time, she did like Clair on her own merit, and she didn’t like the thought that she only liked her because of Clive. And then there was poor Alm… Berkut’s stabbing hammered home the fact that it was very likely for him to die fighting Rudolf. And then Clair would be like her… mourning her love forever. Mathilda found herself, not for the first time, fondly contemplating Clair’s attractiveness. She was much younger, she told herself. But still…

“Um… excuse me, milady of Zofia?” a timid voice asked from outside the tent. Mathilda called in the girl, and she saw a shy-looking lass slink into the room. She wore a sackcloth and lines of aging coursed down her cheeks, but Mathilda could tell she was once a fair maiden- perhaps the fairest in her village before whatever had caused her issue.

“Yes, darling?” Mathilda asked. The girl blushed slightly, and knelt down before Mathilda. Mathilda giggled, and bid her rise.

“What’s the matter?” Mathilda asked. The girl looked over her shoulder, and took in a breath.

“Have you heard of Nuibaba?” the girl asked. Mathilda shook her head.

“It is not something Zofians tend to know… I take it this Nuibaba is the cause of your plight?” Mathilda asked. The girl nodded.

“She kidnaps young Rigelian girls and takes them to her abode on Fear Mountain… there, she tortures them and takes away their beauty, before turning them into soulless husks… witches,” the girl told her. Mathilda frowned.

“And you want us to put a stop to this, I take it?” Mathilda asked.

“Please. My… my sister, too, was taken… she is lost forever. And now dear Tatiana is in Nuibaba’s clutches… please…” the girl muttered. She dropped to her knees, sobs falling free. Mathilda had a vision cross her mind of Clair in the girl’s place, and ran forward, pulling the girl up into a comforting grip.

“We’ll do it… we’ll stop her,” Mathilda stated. If Clair was taken…

“Thank you…” the girl cried.

“What about you?” Mathilda asked. The girl let out a wail.

“My boyfriend picked me for my looks. The rest of him is nice, but… I’m scared to go back. I’ll… I’ll have no home…” the girl muttered.

“...You sure you and him were happy?” Mathilda asked.

“...Not anymore…” the girl sobbed. Mathilda nodded knowingly, and called for one of the soldiers to take her to a tent.

Now she had to figure out a plan to ascend Fear Mountain.

* * *

A witch’s abode. Silque had been informed of the matter once a soldier had reported to her the condition of the woman who escaped Nuibaba’s clutches. Though the woman was unaware of the specifics of the manor, Silque had a general idea what to expect, and began forming her own ideas. Her Warp magic and Faye’s Rescue magic would…

Silque paused, thinking. Faye’s Rescue could’ve saved Clair. Silque thought back to the exchange, trying to remember what Faye was up to. She had her fingers on her staff, but she didn’t make a move to cast. Silque pursed her lips, and called Faye over.

“Yes, Silque?” Faye asked. Silque turned to her, some degree of hope still in her eyes.

“When Clair was being threatened by the sorceress, did you remember you could use Rescue to save her?” Silque asked. Faye blinked, and Silque suspected her answer. Nevertheless, she was going to try and give her some doubt.

“I… why do you ask, Silque?” Faye asked.

“...Faye, it’s a simple question. A no answer will do,” Silque told her. Faye looked down.

“FAYE!” Silque exclaimed. Faye wasn’t it making it easy.

“I’m sorry, Silque… it occurred to me,” Faye muttered.

“Faye… you willingly endangered Clair?” Silque asked.

“...Well, the sorceress had her foot on her, I was worried…” Faye stuttered knowing it was a weak excuse. Rescue wasn’t powerful enough to summon multiple people in one cast- that was the whole drawback. That’s why Faye wasn’t sneaking into Rigel and summoning the army after her- well, that, and the distance issues.

“Faye… you could’ve gotten revenge on Berkut for what he did to your village… what he did to so many Zofian places!” Silque exclaimed.

“I know… but… I… Clair…” Faye muttered.

“You have animosity for Clair?” Silque asked.

“She’s just… I want to be Alm’s girlfriend. I’ve been waiting for this for years. And now that pegasus knight thinks she can swoop in and not only take Alm, but make him think he’s too good for me to make sure we’ll never see each other again?” Faye asked.

“You are dramatically misinformed, Faye. Alm continues to love you (against all odds)  _ because _ you took care of him for those years. Because of what this war has done to his reputation, however, he will find it difficult to escape the burden of nobility… and because  _ you _ refuse to follow him to the castle,  _ he _ must find companionship there. Like it or not, Alm is fond of Clair, and I  _ don’t _ imagine he’d be happy knowing you let her come to undue danger out of your petty spite,” Silque explained. She hadn’t raised her voice, yet Faye quailed in fear at every word.

“Silque…” Faye muttered.

“Faye, a true cleric has one duty. To the well-being of their patients. I would not hesitate to heal a Rigelian in suffering unless I was certain that doing so would cause damage to this party. I don’t expect you to adhere to these values as much as I do, but I  _ do _ expect you to do everything in your power to keep the people of the Deliverance in adequate condition. Do  _ not _ let your personal biases get in the way of the responsibilities your robes demonstrate again,” Silque remarked.

“Silque! I’m… I don’t  _ want _ to be a cleric! I just want to go home!” Faye screamed. Silque raised an eyebrow.

“Then why do you stay with us?” Silque asked. Faye shuddered, taking in a breath.

“Because Alm still needs me. My magic, too, but mostly that maternal touch I’ve been giving him all these years. He needs me, Silque. More than he knows,” Faye remarked. Silque sighed.

“Faye… I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I cannot help you with this problem. You’d best find Kliff, I hear he’s doing a good job,” Silque remarked. Faye turned, but spat out a chilling last word.

“He’s getting cozy with that Delthea. What makes you think he’ll help?”

* * *

Alm felt an uncomfortably warm breeze pushing back at him, attended by a low rumbling. The voices of the dead, perhaps, calling from the land beyond, hungry again for life. Valentia knew no deeper pit than this… Fear Mountain. He found himself growling, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword. Whether or not it could slay the dead, the comfort of a blade at his hip was enough confidence.

“So Nuibaba resides at the top… so what’s down here?” Alm asked. The young guide peered in to the cavern as well.

“...I don’t remember many stories about Fear Mountain that don’t involve it being the source of an evil being. But Duma takes pride in those that demonstrate strength… if there is anything of value in there, you’ll have to pry it out of the hands of powerful forces,” the girl remarked. Alm turned to Mathilda.

“Nuibaba comes first. We must vanquish her before we can consider spending valuable energy on other endeavours. At the very least, we know whatever is in there will  _ not _ attack us unless we attack first,” Mathilda pointed out.

“Fair point. When we’re exhausted from this challenge, Nuibaba will defeat us easily. But what about after?” Alm asked.

“...I’d personally like to know what’s in there before I commit manpower. We’re winning battles with casualties, and most important battles with important casualties- Clive was lost in our fight with Desaix, and we almost lost Clair against Berkut. I want proof a battle will win us something useful,” Mathilda told him. Alm nodded.

“...We’d better go defeat Nuibaba,” Alm stated. Mathilda called the march again, and Alm and the guide went to go ride double.

They had bigger fish to fry.

* * *

Nuibaba’s abode was surprisingly normal. A mansion that, though admittedly macabre in colour tones, would have looked perfectly normal as one of Clair’s. There was also the matter of it being precariously perched on a mountain named Fear, but it had to be scary somehow.

“Oh. I have visitors. So you’d be that Alm fellow?” Nuibaba asked from the building’s ceiling. Tobin tried a snipe, but it was a bit of a tall order.

“Nuibaba, we have heard tales of your savagery. I think it’s high time we put a stop to it. Sorry, but this is your final day,” Alm proclaimed. Nuibaba chuckled.

“You have witnessed my power. Remember that mirror Berkut smashed? I was the one who gave it to him,” Nuibaba chuckled. Alm turned to Mathilda and Clair, who were similarly looking around in confusion.

“...He  _ didn’t _ break it? Jerk’s got more pride than I thought. Ah well, should’ve known he didn’t do it. You’re all here, after all. Just as well… I will do what those cowards can’t, and send you to the Underworld!” Nuibaba called. Silque focused, and warped Faye to the rooftop. Delthea was Rescued, and Clair darted forward herself. Alm and Mathilda suddenly realised they needed to find a way up there as well.

“Tobin, Python, you can’t shoot up there?” Alm asked. Tobin shrugged.

“Sorry, sir, looks a bit too high up. I could try standing on Forsyth’s shoulders,” Python suggested. Alm groaned.

“Wish I got Clair working on recon…” Alm muttered.

“I’ll run around the rear of the mansion. Silque, warp Lukas ahead. Then have Alm follow Faye and Delthea to the ceiling,” Mathilda ordered. Silque nodded, and Mathilda darted away. A blast of thunder came down, but Mathilda seemed to shrug it off. Alm looked up at the ceiling, and realised that Mathilda had been taking powerful magic during her captivity thanks to Delthea...

* * *

Faye looked around the rooftop. Nuibaba was standing beside her, a small gathering of sinister myrmidons, archers and witches around her. She gave a small whistle as she summoned Delthea, who began aiming fiery blasts at the archers. Faye contemplated her next summon, before Nuibaba pointed a gnarled finger her way. An imposing shape appeared before her, the shape of a female head. Instead of hair, several live snakes coiled about. They turned Faye’s way, and hissed, waking the head. Purple light shone from the head’s eyes, and Faye felt a chill down her spine. She looked up, watching a witch’s flame approach her. She took it to her staff, readying her retaliating Nosferatu. She blinked, as the strength to cast it failed her.

“No…” Faye muttered. Nosferatu was a low intensity spell. She should always have the energy to cast it… why was her magic failing her? She watched idly as myrmidons approached her and were blasted away by Delthea. She fell to her knees, spots appearing in her vision.

“Faye!” Alm’s voice called. Faye looked up.

“Alm? Where are you? I can’t see you…” Faye sobbed. Alm knelt down beside her, stroking her forehead comfortingly. She could see the blue armour and green hair of her heartache…

“Alm… I don’t feel too well…” Faye muttered.

“It’s OK, Faye… it’s OK. I’m here, Faye…” Alm crooned. Faye smiled.

“I’m going to… going to…” Faye sobbed, trying to lift her arms. They didn’t get far.

“Yes, Faye… I’m afraid it looks like it,” Alm stated.

“...Alm… you’ll love Clair when I’m gone, right? Please, Alm… treat Clair like you could have treated me…” Faye requested. Alm brought up his sword to parry a myrmidon that got past Delthea, and stabbed him in the groin.

“...Of course, Faye,” Alm stated, choosing not to figure out how to answer Faye more truthfully than that. He got to his feet, and watched Faye give one last shuddering breath. He looked towards Nuibaba, but Delthea’s growl shook him out of it- she was brandishing an evil looking blade, a dead myrmidon at her feet.

“My mummy, your mummy, gonna kill a witch…” Delthea growled, sending a stream of flame before her. Three witches around Nuibaba began their approach.

“Witch number one, drown in a river,” Delthea sung, picking her up and throwing her away.

“Witch number two, gotta noose to give her,” Delthea continued, swinging her hand. A rope appeared around the witch’s neck, and she was thrown aside, the attaching rope snagging on the edge of the roof.

“Witch number three, gonna watch her burn,” Delthea muttered, snapping her fingers. Fire wreathed around the witch, and she sagged to the ground. Delthea turned to Nuibaba, who began casting fearfully.

“Witch number four, flogging takes a turn,” Delthea ordered. Nuibaba dropped to the ground screaming, though to what, Alm couldn’t say. He guessed flogging was involved. Delthea clapped, and a tremendously large pillar of flame crashed down on Nuibaba. Delthea turned to Alm.

“Go. I’ll cover Faye,” Delthea muttered, and Alm nodded. Nuibaba tried to cast, but Alm’s sword cleaved through the malevolent magic and sliced her head off. Alm stepped back, eyeing the corpse warily. He heard a shout, and dodged to one side, avoiding a large fireball coming in to incinerate Nuibaba’s corpse.

“...I wonder if that did anything for the sacrifices…” Luthier muttered, watching the flames dissipate once the body turned to ash. Luthier watched the dust carefully, muttering, as Alm returned to Faye and Delthea. While Delthea had fallen to one side, exhaustion overtaking her, Faye…

Well, at least she  _ looked _ like she had been overtaken by exhaustion and had fallen into a gentle slumber.


	17. Dread Fighter

Celica arrived in front of Grieth’s Citadel, wiping sweat from her brow as she examined the place. No one had managed to draw a map and escape with their life, so things would have to be played by ear.

“Well, hello there,” a not-very-charming drawl called. Celica looked up, seeing Grieth strut out of the keep.

“Grieth. Your reign of terror ends today!” Celica called. Kamui stepped forward, and knelt, his Brave Sword readied for when his strike would follow. Grieth smirked.

“The Brave Sword… so you have defeated Deen, rather than convert him. Thanks for the help, I guess. Now I can just take that beauty off your hands, and then those beauties, and then… wait…” Grieth stopped his callous rant to look more closely at Celica. She put her hands behind her back, before Grieth appeared to shoot forward and grab her by the hand. Kamui darted past them with the Brave Sword, staggering him back, but he saw what he needed.

“The Brand of Zofia… I can  _ finally _ get you back!” Grieth realised. Mae and Boey barely realised both had fired a blast of Aura until they heard the other’s shout. Grieth smirked, blocking both blows with his purplish aura.

“Mages can never pierce my Apotrophe! Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Grieth chuckled, before disappearing. Axemen and mercenaries began taking his place, and archers appeared on higher ground. Leon began his shooting, while the four mages looked between each other.

“We stop him together,” Mae stated.

“But what about his Apotrophe?” Catria asked.

“No match for the righteous fury of the four of us,” Mae stated. Genny nodded vaguely, while Celica and Boey didn’t even do that much. Celica knew she would need to make herself available for Grieth to attempt to capture her… she only hoped her backup had more proven odds of success.

* * *

Celica entered a cavernous room, fitting a pair of ships for seafaring banditry. Such a industrious fellow… she had to admit as much. She cast a pair of fire spells, before drawing her dagger and taking a more conservative approach. Grieth would reappear, and she didn’t want to be drained of energy when he did.

“You’re not stopping me!” Mae called, wreaths of flame and balls of Seraphim’s light spinning around her. She had no regard for her own energy requirements, but at least Genny was healing her up. A bandit grabbed her from behind, and Celica’s eyes narrowed. Boey prepared a bolt of lightning to drop on him, but Genny got there first.

“Now I’m angry!” Genny growled, elbowing the bandit hard in the stomach, slackening his grip. Before he could make another move, Genny followed up with a Nosferatu. Two bandits approached to do what their friend had failed, but two successive Nosferatu strikes told them this was no fluke. And when Valbar entered the room, his lance pointed at the enemies in turn, they started to shrink away. Conrad followed behind, and made to charge one end.

“Hey, redhead!” Grieth called. Celica looked up, and noticed some brigands behind him hauling Est and another woman onto one of the boats. Grieth was already standing atop it… she knew exactly what he wanted.

She could only hope he wasn’t careful what he wished for.

Celica knocked away one of the brigands holding the woman, before rushing up the boarding plank and landing on deck, shoving the pirates holding Est down. The two girls were bound and unable to help her directly, but Boey would certainly help them change that. She brandished her dagger, the dagger Boey had gone to great lengths to save back when she confronted Barth… she took that as a sign it would do something good here.

“You think you can beat me with  _ that _ ?” Grieth asked. Celica shrugged, and charged forward. She knew the dagger was useless outside of close quarters, and watching the wide stroke Grieth had planned, she suspected she could use that. She pressed her back to his front, allowing the sword to sweep forward, and attempted to slice his arm. Grieth drew his hand back, blood rushing down his forearm, and Celica casted some fire magic to pull away. She thrusted again, but Grieth caught on, and leant back.

_ Hold up your sword before your next strike. _

Celica brought the point of the dagger skyward, hardly understanding why. Grieth smirked, obviously thinking the same thing, before preparing a sweeping strike. Celica retaliated with a darting blow far too early… only to meet resistance where she expected none. She blinked, pulling her dagger from Grieth’s body. It was hardly a dagger anymore- it was a sweeping sword, similar to Alm’s, but much thinner, and more… feminine? She could certainly believe, with her mage’s build, that this sword was made specifically for her.

“How…” Grieth asked. Celica smiled, waving the sword.

“I have the favour of our Earth Mother,” she told him, and waved her hands around her body. Flames appeared at her fingertips, and she drew a shape in the air. She didn’t recognise it, but the movement began etching itself into her mind. Two lines at her hips, and then an arching circle to connect them above her head. Her hands presented themselves, palms forward and the Brand of Zofia glowing.

“You’re  _ not _ stopping me!” Celica yelled, doing her best to add Mae’s drawl to the yell. Flames appeared all around Grieth, piercing his Apotrophe and digging into his body. He let out a gurgled yell as he took the heavy hit. Celica watched him curl up on the ship’s deck, and counted to fifty. When Grieth hadn’t moved, she turned to Est, seeing Mae already helping her up. Genny was helping the other girl down below.

“You do a good impression of me, Cel,” Mae chuckled. Celica beamed, and threw her arms around her. She stepped back, and turned to Est.

“...Thank you for saving me, er… ‘Cel’,” Est remarked, her arms naturally going to try and hide herself. Celica blushed, and gave an unspoken order to Mae to find her something to wear.

“That’s what Mae calls me. My name is Celica,” Celica told her. Est tilted her head in confusion.

“...Well, I guess your name is already so short… does anyone call Catria ‘Cat’, or something?” Celica asked. Est looked up, racking her brains.

“...No, I don’t recall anyone using names like that. Sounds cute, though… so what’s her name?” Est asked. Celica smiled.

“Mae. It’s not short for anything,” Celica giggled. Est smiled, knowing that the nickname Celica had from Mae only wasn’t something  _ everyone  _ was supposed to have.

* * *

Sonya looked down at the girl who had helped untie her. Now, without a firm mission, she had turned into a nervous wreck, looking everywhere but at her face (and naked body) and wringing her hands.

“...Is something wrong, my dear?” Sonya asked. She was wringing her hands, but she was still reticent… Sonya decided to try a different approach. She brought the girl into her, her head slightly too short to reach her own bust.

“...I… I…” the girl muttered. Sonya stroked her back uncertainly, before kneeling as she released her.

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you, I can help,” Sonya told her.

“It’s just… er… unpleasant memories…” the girl muttered, still blushing as she looked away. Sonya was positive at least part of it was her nudity, but she gave the girl another reassuring pat before nudging her to go to her friends. She got to her feet, and noticed two men standing by.

“There is at least one other girl captured here. I want you to find her and anyone else stuck here,” Sonya ordered the one on the left. The one on the right nodded, and darted away. Sonya raised an eyebrow.

“He senses things with more than just vision. He’ll leave less stones unturned,” the man remarked.

“Good, I like men with initiative. Now get me something to wear for public and that little girl over there,” Sonya told him.

“Yes, ma’am… before I go, though, I would tell you her name is Genny, and even as young as she is, she has been in your position. She’s trying her hardest to have the boy I have a crush on help her, so I’m going to welcome anyone else joining in…” the man told her, winking as he departed. Sonya nodded, looking at Genny with the girls on deck. The girl who confronted Grieth… the one who seemed like the leader had her arms around the young Genny.

Sonya felt a sudden urge to destroy something of Grieth’s. Somewhat unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the man himself, but she’d make do.

* * *

“Palla! Catria!” Est called, rushing out to meet them with at least a cloth tied around her. The two girls smiled as they brought her in for a group hug, though Catria was concerned about Est still- the cloth couldn’t be the best condition for her. But she looked at Palla’s excitement at Est’s safety and decided not to concern herself too deeply.

“Est… are you all right?” Palla asked.

“A little shaken, yeah, but who cares? That mage was  _ awesome _ !” Est exclaimed. Palla beamed, stroking her shoulder, as Catria looked up.

“Celica, hm? I’ve liked her so far too… but be careful, Est. You, of the three of us, have the most waiting for you back in Archanea,” Catria stated. Est nodded, looking down at her engagement ring. She had a shop, she had a fiance… she had a reason to go back.

“...You’re right, Catria. But I want to make friends here…” Est stated. Catria nodded.

“I’m not concerned about you making the wrong friends. I’m concerned that, when you return to Archanea and Abel, you’ll miss the friends here too terribly… especially since I doubt you’ll have the sort of leave to come back here regularly,” Catria told her. Est nodded.

“Catria, must you be so brutally honest?” Palla asked. Catria looked down.

“...It’s better we be honest than try and pick up those pieces later,” Catria stated. Palla sighed, before pulling Catria in for a tight hug.

“Honestly, sister…” Palla remarked.

“So wait, aren’t we going back to Archanea right way?” Est asked. Palla and Catria looked between each other.

“...Why are we staying again?” Catria asked. Palla looked back at Celica, and her eyes drifted to the other mages…

“Boey! Boey was going to organise our boat trip back. I think he’d want to come with us, so he could meet Linde, but that requires he finish his affairs here. And they have that goddess to find…” Palla stated. Est looked up.

“An actual goddess? Like, not a very powerful dragon, a  _ goddess _ ?” Est asked. Palla turned to Catria.

“...I could honestly buy the ‘powerful dragon’ idea. Celica just calls Mila a goddess, best to humour her until we can affirm it for ourselves,” Catria remarked. Est smirked.

“There’s the humour in you!” Est giggled.

* * *

Celica left the citadel that night, taking Mae’s cloak. With a shiver, she realised perhaps it was not enough, so she remained at the citadel’s doors. Tomorrow, they would return to the town they had met the Whitewings by ship, leaving Grieth’s hideout to rot at best. Mae mentioned wanting to burn it down, and Celica found it hard to begrudge her- she even contemplated joining in.

“Proud of yourself?” a deep voice asked. Celica jumped, readying her new sword. The man walking towards her appeared non-threatening. Neatly-combed blonde hair framed a pointed face, and heavy robes covered all but his starved arms. Celica doubted this man was particularly dangerous, but at the same time, he had to cross the desert somehow…

“Peace, child of Mila. I do not seek to harm you. To be honest, men like Grieth disgust me,” the man muttered. Celica nodded, still vaguely concerned. ‘Grieth disgusts me’ should not be a controversial opinion, yet he framed it like it was.

“Who are you?” Celica asked. The man smiled.

“Of course… I am called Jedah, and I am the head priest of the Duma Faithful,” Jedah told her. Celica eyed him nervously. Something about that title felt… wrong… but she gave him the benefit of the doubt. Eventually, Mae would wander out looking for her, and when that happened, she would be infinitely safer.

“Such distrust… I suppose there isn’t much reason to think otherwise. I am Rigelian, and the Rigelians have caused Zofia so much hardship…” Jedah remarked.

“...But I should not distrust them all,” Celica finished almost instinctively.

“Quite so, milady. Duma and Mila… both gods alike have been encountering some problems recently. I ordered Mila come to Rigel… I thought it would have only taken a few days to discover the problem. But it was worse than I had thought… and now Mila cannot make her return, and Zofia suffers…” Jedah explained. Celica gasped.

“...Where is she?” Celica asked.

“Mila resides in Duma Tower, to the north. To my understanding, the knight who wears a mask should know where this is. I ask that you come to the Tower… I believe the Brand of Zofia should be able to help me here,” Jedah asked. Celica looked at the Brand, before looking back at Jedah.

“Thank you for your suggestion, Jedah,” Celica stated.

“My pleasure, milady. One quick question before I depart, however… you may hear rumours that I, Jedah of the Duma Faithful, am a bit of an… unsavoury character. I’ll admit that I have done things that have earned such a reputation, but… could you kindly keep our meeting a secret? There are people in your party who believe that story, and I’m afraid they wouldn’t take you seriously if they knew the words came out of my mouth,” Jedah told her. Celica found herself nodding.

“I suppose I should, then. Though don’t expect me to fight that reputation… I want proof you’ll be helping us,” Celica told him. Jedah chuckled.

“Of course. The rumours don’t bother me, but still… it might be nice to air them out. Farewell, and may we meet again,” Jedah remarked, vanishing. Celica wasn’t sure how he did it- it just sort of happened.

Did she even meet the fellow at all?

“Cel?” Mae asked. Even with the stresses of the desert trip marring her clothes and her body, Celica felt that warm feeling well up every time she saw her up and all right… the vision of Mae brutally beaten entered her vision for the first time in a while. She shook it away, and hugged the girl.

“Something came up… but I’m fine. I’m sure I’m fine,” Celica stated. Mae nodded, too tired to be suspicious, and Celica led the two back to the room they had declared. She kissed Mae’s forehead on an impulse, and Mae grinned as she returned with laying her head on Celica’s shoulder.

Celica wasn’t sure why she felt so keen to make sure Mae knew she loved her… and she hoped it wasn’t because she knew Jedah was going to betray her.

* * *

Sonya was glad to see Grieth’s Citadel in flames. They had took off early in the morning, with the only pause being Kamui doing a quick scour of the place for any missing slaves or allies. No less than fifteen girls slept below decks, a number Sonya thought too low until she remembered Grieth  _ sold _ most of the girls who came his way. She wondered vaguely if there were any way to track them all down, before giving it up as a lost cause. Burning down the place of torment was as cathartic as it got.

_ I’m sorry… _

Sonya looked up, as the knight Valbar moved to sit beside her. She knew Valbar was Leon and Genny’s mutual crush, and was surprised at how  _ old _ he looked. He wasn’t as old as Nomah, for instance, but he  _ definitely _ struck her as out of Genny’s age range.

“So what were you up to with Genny?” Valbar asked. Sonya tried to hide her shock as she answered.

“She approached me… I’d certainly like to help her with her problems, but she wasn’t comfortable enough around me naked to make our start,” Sonya told him. Valbar nodded.

“I’m hoping her finding you would mean she’d stop trying to hang off of me… but I guess not,” Valbar remarked. All of a sudden, the relationship dynamic between the group unfurled before her.

“...Valbar, do you like Genny herself?” Sonya asked. Valbar shrugged.

“I mean, as she is, all clingy and such, she’s not my favourite of Celica’s mages… but she  _ is _ a cutie, and she once asked if she could help me start a new family… if she wanted to be my  _ daughter _ instead of my  _ wife _ , I’d be down for it. But as is…” Valbar muttered. Sonya nodded, and looked at the man thoughtfully.

“Sonya?” Valbar asked.

“...I want to try and understand Genny. Something about those eyes is familiar to me… I’m thinking about what I want to help her become. And maybe… just maybe… I’d be willing to play the part of Genny’s adoptive mother,” Sonya stated. Valbar’s jaw dropped.

“...You’re thinking about that exact thing already, aren’t you?” Valbar asked.

“I’m not sure if I want to become your wife yet. This is the first time we have talked, that’s normal. I hadn’t even considered my romantic prospects with Deen before he went and lost. But if that’s the family tree Genny wants, I have to at least fake it,” Sonya stated. Valbar smiled.

“Anyone who’s that determined to help a stranger like that certainly seems like a good start,” he said.

* * *

Conrad walked by Celica and Mae sitting on the ship’s deck, each other’s arms wrapped around the other, and Mae’s head on Celica’s shoulder- and then Celica’s head on top. The sight would’ve been rather romantic were it not two girls… Conrad blinked, and thought about how the two girls had interacted until now. They had always slept in the same place, snuggled together, and Celica had been wearing Mae’s coat the previous night. Perhaps it  _ was  _ romantic…

“Did you need something?” Mae asked, her eyes opening. Conrad jumped, contemplating what he wanted to say to Mae. Celica’s eyes were fluttering open, too, and Conrad began flushing.

“How are you… I mean, uh…” Conrad stuttered, his nerves getting the better of him.

“Are you…  _ threatened _ by me?” Mae asked. Conrad’s eyes widened.

“I… I mean…” Conrad stammered.

“Because I don’t care about Nomah. Celica is my friend, and if anyone tries to change that, I’m not going to sit by and take it,” Mae growled. Celica nervously smiled, looking at Conrad encouragingly.

“I don’t want to separate you two. I think you’re adorable together. But… you seem a little… close, somehow… romantic?” Conrad asked. Mae’s glare softened, and Celica blushed.

“Yes, Conrad… Mae is my girlfriend,” Celica stated, bringing her other arm around Mae, pulling her closer. Conrad smiled nervously, as Mae slid over Celica’s leg and plopped down between it and the other. Celica’s arms started sliding up and down her sides, and Mae took a turn to blush.

“Cel…” Mae muttered.

“Sorry, Mae… I just… love you so much… I don’t want to lose you… or you to lose me…” Celica muttered. Mae jumped.

“Me losing you? Are you… worried about yourself?” Mae asked. Celica shrugged.

“I… it’s not going to happen, Mae. We’re going to find Mila, get her and Duma back to normal, and then we’re going to go home and get married. I don’t know if we’ll get to be queen and queen of Zofia, but so long as we can grow old together with a kid or two out of Boey or someone, I don’t need anything else,” Celica exclaimed. Mae and Conrad blinked.

“Now I’m more curious,” Mae pointed out.

“You too care about Duma? I had never counted on a Zofian worried about him. I had been told they all feared him for how rough Rigel and its inhabitants are,” Conrad told her.

“Did you meet somebody?” Mae asked. Celica thought about Jedah’s words. Conrad would be the most likely to distrust him. But on the other hand, Jedah had stated he’d know the way to Duma Tower.

“Conrad… would Mila be at Duma Tower?” Celica asked. Conrad looked at her thoughtfully.

“You want to go to the centre of the Duma Faithful… their headquarters?” Conrad asked.

“Well, where else are we going to find Mila? The middle of the desert? Conrad, we can’t run from Jedah and expect to find Mila. Jedah probably has Mila- more likely than anything else,” Celica stated.

“I know, Anthiese, but Jedah will want to… well, you’d leave Mae behind if Jedah got his hands on you!” Conrad exclaimed.

“...I’m not some pretty flower, Conrad. And Celica is not getting hurt on my watch,” Mae told him, putting her hands on Celica’s. Celica gasped, and Mae leaned back into Celica, placing her head squarely under her chin.

“...If you’re sure… but I’d recommend we visit Halcyon first. I’ll show the way there…” Conrad stated. Celica nodded, feeling Mae’s touch over her hands… and then her palms found Mae’s breastplate. She looked down, seeing Mae’s contented smile, and fell into her own serene rest. Conrad smiled, watching the two for a short moment.


	18. A Fallen Friend

The first thing Alm did when he climbed off the roof and entered the mansion proper was ensure that, with Nuibaba departed, the place was hospitable for a short stay. With that out of the way, he sat on a chair to one side and allowed the men to filter in. He was simply staring at his hands, trying to ignore everyone else…

Faye was gone. He had gotten Silque to confirm it. Twice, to be sure. He had to believe it… but he just couldn’t accept it. Underneath the shell of a soft, kind-hearted village girl who just wanted to see a smile on Alm’s face was a tough little cookie with a mean Nosferatu and the sheer power of determination. The idea that girl was gone was hard to believe.

“...It must be so much harder, for you…” Clair muttered. Alm looked up, nodding at the sight of the pegasus knight, before sinking back down. Clair rolled her eyes, before pushing Alm’s head back up. She hefted herself onto his lap, and let go, allowing Alm to moodily drop his head into facing her midriff. She pulled her top half up, and wrapped her arms around his head.

“Faye was important to you, right?” Clair asked.

“She was like an older sister to me… I know she was a little crazy in the end, but she was just worried about me. All those years… seems such a shame that she never got her kiss…” Alm muttered. Clair smiled, running her hand through his hair. Alm nervously chuckled, the sensation vaguely ticklish. He looked up to Clair’s face, seeing a beautiful pair of eyes with both tears and sympathy staring back.

“...How did you do it, Clair? How did you let Clive and Fernand go?” Alm asked. Clair looked down nervously.

“I bet you’re expecting me to say something triumphant. About the strength and morale of the army being more important than mourning. And true, I have been trying to keep a brave face. But… Clive and Fernand’s mistakes are fresh on my mind. One made Mathilda get captured, and the other forced us to cobble together our capture of Zofia Castle- a capture I’m starting to think we only got  _ because  _ the Rigelians want you to fight Rudolf personally. I’m grateful we don’t have to deal with them… and that seems to be stopping me mourning them as my fallen brothers,” Clair confided. Alm stroked her back gently, and Clair found herself blushing.

“Alm…” Clair muttered, trying to keep the mood appropriate.

“Don’t worry, Clair. The people like a human commander. I suppose showing that I mourn for Faye is good for morale in its own way,” Alm stated. Clair blinked, and Alm brought himself closer.

“...And this is the proper time to try and draw comfort, is it not?” Alm asked. Clair blinked, and nodded. Alm pressed his lips to hers, and Clair found herself smiling. Alm pulled back, and Clair blinked.

“Alm… thanks. That was wonderful… and I agree. Maybe calling me a girlfriend could help you deal with Faye.  _ Could _ ,” Clair suggested. Alm smiled.

“As long as it makes me happy, it’s probably good enough,” Alm told her. Clair giggled, snuggling into his shoulder.

* * *

Mathilda looked around downstairs. She found the cells relatively easily, and the key for the doors was in easy access. A few merchants and young girls came from each cell, thanking Mathilda politely before heading upstairs. She knew Lukas would organise accommodation for them until they could establish where and how they would get ‘home’. However, the guide had mentioned a Tatiana, and Mathilda was sure to find her and take her aside.

“Who are you?” Mathilda asked, looking over the saint. Her robes were frilly, like Silque and Faye’s, but Mathilda was more strongly reminded of Rinea. Her long green hair flowed down her back and she wore a tiara-like headpiece, but her eyes betrayed a more common upbringing.

“Might I ask why?” Tatiana asked.

“I am here on behalf of the Deliverance. My name is Mathilda Thrima, functional captain. The woman who bid us come here was exceptionally worried about you,” Mathilda stated. Tatiana looked aside nervously.

“I’m grateful she did, but I’m not sure I’m really worth as much as you probably expected. I’m not some war heroine. I’m just klutzy Tatiana. Honestly, my boyfriend is probably more worth acknowledging, and  _ he _ is an amnesiac I pulled off the shore,” Tatiana remarked.

“What  _ can _ you do?” Mathilda asked.

“Physic, Fortify, Warp, Invoke… you know, the usual,” Tatiana stated. Mathilda’s jaw dropped.

“Those aren’t so usual among Zofian clergy… would you be willing to join our efforts and help us reach Rigel Castle?” Mathilda asked.

“Hm… you  _ did _ stop Nuibaba doing anything untoward with my beauty… and, you know, saved my life, that’s probably important too… but I am a Rigelian. ...At least let me consult with Zeke,” Tatiana told her.

“Zeke?” Mathilda asked.

“Ezekiel. My amnesiac boyfriend. Rudolf hired him as a knight, and if anyone can tell me whether helping you lot to his doorstep is an idea I’d support, it’s him. He’s a true knight…” Tatiana told her brightly. Mathilda gave a weak smile, thinking of Clive, her own true knight boyfriend. Except he lost something a bit more vital than his memory…

“You OK, miss Mathilda?” Tatiana asked worriedly.

“I’m fine. Just… I’m fine,” Mathilda assured her.

“That’s not ‘fine’ body language. I know a thing or two about this. I won’t pry if it’s a Zofian secret or some such, but you shouldn’t be running around bottling stuff up,” Tatiana told her. Mathilda nodded.

“Well, you’re probably going to get told anyway… my boyfriend died. Sorry… *hic* your description of Zeke… just reminded me of him…” Mathilda sobbed, bringing her hands up to dry her tears. Tatiana leaned forward on instinct, and began stroking her back, encouraging her to let out all her tears. She chose not to speak, though- she didn’t expect she’d say anything encouraging.

* * *

Lukas was taking inventory of Nuibaba’s storage. She had a bunch of supplies here and there, and quite a few looked usable. He noticed a few tools that were more sinister in nature, and elected to ignore them. The good ones were the usual- standard stock silver weapons and the like. With one exception… he looked at a trident thoughtfully. It had some kind of sinister enchantment on it, though at the same time, Lukas did not feel in danger from touching it like he did some of the other blades.

“What are you doing in here? Don’t you know Nuibaba would probably have put dangerous enchantments on her gear?” Luthier’s voice called. Lukas jumped, turning to the mage as he explored the room.

“I may be no mage, but I can detect some of the enchantments,” Lukas assured him. Luthier smiled, and held up his hand to stop Lukas from touching one of the Silver Swords.

“But not all of them,” Luthier remarked. He waved his hand over the Silver Sword, muttering, and tapped the gem on the hilt.

“Rudimentary, almost. Scariest witch in the continent, huh? I’m guessing that’s relative, because this is almost embarrassing,” Luthier remarked. Lukas chuckled, and gestured towards the trident.

“Is this one cursed?” Lukas asked. Luthier waved his hand over the tip, muttering.

“...Perfectly. Though I’d prefer the term enchanted. There is a magic that functions according to the degree of pain the wielder is suffering, which may appear as a malicious enchantment to the unenlightened, but you may add this to the convoy. Might I suggest you give it to Clair or Mathilda? They are more likely to be wounded and able to make use of the enchantment,” Luthier suggested. Lukas chuckled.

“I suppose that would make sense, wouldn’t it? All right, I’ll show it to them. You mind helping me sort the rest of this out?” Lukas asked. Luthier scoffed.

“Truth be told, I am much more concerned with Delthea. I do not like the boy she has taken a fancy to. But I suspect you are likely to die without the assistance of a mage as skilled as I, so I will allow her one more night with that boy before I give her a stern talking to,” Luthier stated, moving on to a new set of weapons. Lukas said nothing more, simply taking every weapon Luthier had deemed safe and sorting them properly. Luthier would probably not help him move them, but he could have Forsyth do that much.

Besides, for all his mental ability, the warlock was probably unable to lift more than two at a time.

* * *

“So Faye is like, your neighbour and you’re not upset she’s gone?” Delthea asked. Delthea had claimed Nuibaba’s room for herself and Kliff, to a mixture of surprise and excitement from the people she told. She had a vague idea that the thought of her sleeping alone with a boy did something strange to other people’s minds, but she wasn’t entirely clear on what. She just wanted to talk to the mage.

“Well, of course I’m upset! That girl had access to amazing spells that have saved our strategy many times, and now we don’t have her, we’ll be more vulnerable. But on a personal level? All she did was hang around Alm, acting like she was his big sister while trying to get him to marry her when they got older,” Kliff growled. He was sitting on a chair quite a bit away from her on the bed, giving her a curious look.

“So why were you taking care of her earlier?” Delthea asked, winking. Kliff smirked.

“She’s cute, I’ll give her that much. This war has been awful on her mental state, and I thought if I could help her return to a functioning state, she would let Alm be and fall for me. Didn’t wind up working…” Kliff explained. He looked away.

“I was wondering about that kiss. You’re a big softie under there, aren’t you?” Delthea asked.

“Absolutely NOT! ...I just don’t cry easy. I hate Faye died, but I don’t miss her like Alm does. I can’t even figure out how to fake it,” Kliff mumbled. Delthea sighed.

“Just like Lu. When our mum died, I cried for a month. But I never caught  _ him _ mourning. Probably thinks he’s too good for crying. You, though… does anything make you upset?” Delthea asked. Kliff shook his head.

“Nothing’s really caught my interest enough for me to have emotions about it except  _ maybe _ the time my mother got me a place in a school,” Kliff stated plainly. Delthea giggled.

“You’re a weirdo, ya know? But you’re a good weirdo, not like Lu,” Delthea remarked. Kliff got to his feet, and sat beside Delthea on the bed.

“You’re certainly an interesting little mage, too. Not quite as cute as Faye, but nowhere  _ near _ as mentally crippled. Besides, you’re still young…” Kliff remarked. Delthea tilted her head.

“Listen, I know you’re not missing Faye and all, but don’t you think you’re moving on a  _ tad _ too quickly?” Delthea asked. Kliff leaned forward, and gave her a kiss, much like the one she saw him give Faye. When he broke away, Delthea was still trying to process the moment.

“What do you think?” Kliff asked.

“...Well, if you’re sure, I’m not going to say I wasn’t thinking about this a little when I saw you and Faye. And, not gonna lie, I was hoping you two wouldn’t work out. Mostly because I didn’t think she was capable of moving on from Alm. So… sure, I guess?” Delthea asked. Kliff smirked, stroking her hair.

* * *

It was a solemn party that made their way back down Fear Mountain, in search of Tatiana’s village and the great warrior Ezekiel. They didn’t even consider going into Duma’s challenge within- they had lost Faye. They didn’t want to risk anyone as important on anything else. Who knew who would be next? Could it be Alm, Clair, or Mathilda? Or perhaps Delthea, Lukas or Tobin? It wasn’t worth answering that question unless it brought them closer to Rudolf’s doorstep.

As they marched, Tobin pondered this fear. Faye’s body had been buried here on the mountain- there was no way they’d lug it around just to return it to Ram. In spite of their concerns, both fanciful and real, they decided that they had no real choice but to leave her there. But Tobin knew, now more than ever, that he could be the next one, killed and buried on Rigelian soil. Or it could be Gray, the powerful myrmidon who slaughtered all who dared enter his wake, once Tobin had killed the mages and such in the vicinity. What if he  _ couldn’t _ take out the scary enemies and Gray got overwhelmed? Sure, Faye was a horrible friend, but she was still a friend and Tobin valued that much. Could he handle seeing Gray go in front of him?

“Are you planning on bailing, Tob?” Gray asked. Tobin looked up.

“No. I’m  _ considering _ bailing,” Tobin told him.

“Jeez, I was joking. We’re already on the downlow with morale, no need to make it worse,” Gray growled.

“Well, not all of us are mindless fighters, Gray. Some of us are scared for our lives… and the lives of our friends, too,” Tobin pointed out. Gray raised an eyebrow.

“You’re worried about me! How sweet,” Gray chuckled.

“Gray, this is no laughing matter. We’re already down  _ one _ of the Ram Five,” Tobin pointed out.

“All the more reason to stick around and watch my back. If you leave, who’s going to do that?” Gray asked. Tobin blinked.

“And besides, you’re an archer. Your job is to stand out of range of the enemy and fire death from afar. You’ll be hard to kill,” Gray added before Tobin could protest.

“Gray…” Tobin muttered.

“You’re not going. And that’s final. Like you said, we’re down one of the Ram Five. You’d take away another?” Gray asked. Tobin considered it.

“...Alm still needs us… I’ll… I’ll do my best. I’ve gotta get Alm to Rigel Castle… I want those answers,” Tobin growled, breathing heavily.

“See? You got it!” Gray pointed out. Tobin wasn’t so happy about Gray prodding him, but so long as he had a point, he was fine with going along with the plan.

After all, if his dilemma was easy, war would be less common.

* * *

“Hold, travellers!” a deep, booming voice called from the opposite side of a river. Tatiana seized up, and Mathilda trotted her horse to the front. The forces opposing them were predominantly cavalry, and Mathilda was already eyeing the river for clues as to how they would choose their approach. With a single rather narrow bridge being the only obvious crossing point for as far as Mathilda could easily see, it didn’t seem like they could charge to this side comfortably.

“What will it take to convince you to allow us passage?” Mathilda asked.

“Hah. ‘Allow’. Not going to happen, girl. Rudolf’s finest general will stop you here. Rigel will  _ never _ bow to you!” the voice called. Tatiana stepped forward, looking across the cavalry uncertainly.

“Zeke? Ezekiel? Are you there?” Tatiana called. Some rustling came from the forces on the other side, and a blond knight in a deep black armour that resembled a suit trotted to the front of the other side. The man who boomed tried to jostle him back, but the knight was undeterred.

“Tatiana? Is that you?” the knight asked.

“Yes, it’s me. The Deliverance got me out of Nuibaba’s grasp, and I want to help her… them,” Tatiana called out. Zeke smiled.

“That’s very nice, commander Ezekiel. But I’m afraid that means little. You  _ will _ be turning back the Deliverance permanently, General,” the other soldier claimed. Zeke turned his horse around to face him.

“And who’s going to make me, Jerome? Would Rudolf approve of what you have ordered?” Zeke asked. Jerome chuckled.

“You really don’t know anything, do you? Rudolf would be proud that you showed yourself strong enough to wipe out such a bothersome thorn!” Jerome proclaimed.

“Then you have never met the man. I will halt your delusions here, Jerome!” Zeke called. He charged on Jerome, their lances meeting. Clair shot into the air, while the rest of the Deliverance made a cautious approach. The men surrounding the pair seemed more eager to watch the fight between generals, and the Deliverance did not want chaos to ensue, with no way for any side to be able to distinguish between the Rigelians sympathetic to the Deliverance and those that would stand for their country, and their country alone.

Jerome’s swings were much wilder than Zeke’s. Each blow Jerome landed seemed to shake the black knight ever so slightly, while Zeke’s own blows were much more measured, easily parried by Jerome. Despite the advantage Jerome seemed to have claimed, it was clear Zeke was the more skilled of the duellists. He was just lying in wait, though no one seemed clear on what he was waiting for. The fact he was willing to do so was just impressive.

*FWIP*

Jerome jumped backwards from the cruel arc of the javelin singing from the sky, his horse rearing in fear and slightly dislodging him from his saddle. Zeke charged forward, his own lance singing and landing a solid blow. Jerome staggered backwards, falling to the ground. Though he had been dislodged from his saddle, his feet were still firmly in the stirrups, and his armour was quite well adorned… and heavy. His horse tipped, and fell after him, landing on top of him.

“Zeke…” Jerome gasped.

“You signed your death warrant when you ordered I march on Tatiana. It’s cruel to your horse, but I think this is a nice and torturous way for a cruel and torturous man to suffer,” Zeke growled. He turned to the men, who all saluted with their lances. There would hopefully be no active betrayal.

“Tatiana!” Zeke called. Tatiana hopped aboard Mathilda’s horse, and shot forward to Zeke. Clair swooped down, and Alm hopped aboard to follow.

“Zeke, my love… I am safe,” Tatiana proclaimed. Mathilda bowed as the pair dismounted and embraced. Zeke pulled her from the ground, and Tatiana’s legs wrapped around his waist.

“You are the ones who saved Tatiana, are you not?” Zeke asked. Mathilda nodded, and Clair came by to deposit Alm. Mathilda’s eyes narrowed, seeing a minute reaction at the sight of Alm.

“We do not seek to hurt Rigelians unnecessarily. All I want is to see why Rudolf is so interested in me,” Alm told him. Zeke nodded.

“I understand. I need to return home for now. You’re welcome to follow and resupply. Tatiana, do you want to come with?” Zeke asked.

“Of course, my love,” Tatiana told him, kissing him on the cheek. Zeke set her on his horse before mounting himself, and nudged him forward. Clair and Mathilda nudged to follow, while one of Zeke’s men accounted for the Deliverance.

* * *

“What in Duma’s name happened here?” Zeke asked. Mathilda and Clair weren’t far behind, and watched at Zeke wandered across the fortifications set in his town. Blood was splattered across it, as well as some odd kind of green splatter that was most likely monster blood. Zeke curled his lip as he looked across the red blood splatters, looking up to the arrival of an official-looking fellow.

“How bad was it?” Zeke asked.

“Five men, one of which was one of the people you taught. James, I believe his name was. A mogall also surprised us and took out some of Tatiana’s healers, too… I can’t believe we were so unfortunate as to get a mogall. Especially when you and Tatiana were gone…” the man told him. Zeke nodded solemnly. Tatiana gasped, and made her way into the village, presumably to find who was lost.

“I must apologise, but I’m not staying long. I’m going to help the Deliverance get to Rigel Castle at Rudolf’s behest. I fear this might be long enough that you get another monster attack…” Zeke told him. The man smiled, holding up his hand.

“If it’s at Rudolf’s behest, go. We survived before Tatiana brought you here. We can survive another monster attack without your mighty lance at our side. We just know now that there’ll probably be more monsters scaled to your level of skill… hopefully no necrodragons,” the man told him. Zeke shuddered.

“Well, I have to gather my kit, and I’ll probably pay my respects to James before I go,” Zeke told him, before heading into the village. The man watched him go, before turning to Alm. His eyes lit up, and he approached.

“You are the bearer of Duma’s Brand, right?” he asked. Alm nodded, hoping Zeke’s trust was enough. Clair’s hand tightened its grip around his own, and Alm nodded in turn.

“It brings us all great joy to hear you have come. Zeke hasn’t spoken much about his royal duties, but he has told us that if the bearer of Duma’s Brand became known, he was to help bring him to Rudolf. When the rumours that you joined the Deliverance, and you’d be coming here… well, it does my heart good, knowing Zeke’s getting some purpose,” he told him.

“Zeke has had trouble with purpose?” Alm asked in spite of himself. The man stammered nervously.

“Zeke was found with amnesia, and Tatiana took him in. I suppose it is related to that development?” Mathilda asked.

“How did you… well, I suppose one of them said that much. Yes, when Zeke came here, all he remembered was the name ‘Nyna’. But his muscles had memory enough- he must’ve been a fine knight before, because he’s almost more than a match for Rudolf himself. He’s one of Rudolf’s trusted generals now, second only to Massena. As for what it is Rudolf has planned… I have no idea. Rigelian tradition dictates… well, it  _ can’t _ be that. There’s no way he’d do it. But if Rudolf wants to duel you, he must have a reason. Just make it there in one piece, you hear?” the man told them. Alm nodded nervously.

“You just try me,” Clair stated confidently, brandishing the trident from Nuibaba’s.

“Very good. Well, let’s see if we can’t spare some supplies for you and your army…” the man told them, turning back to the village.

“What happened here?” Alm blurted out. The man turned his head back briefly.

“Just a monster attack, nothing particularly exciting,” he said, before turning back. Mathilda, Clair and Alm shared a concerned glance- nothing  _ exciting _ ?

* * *

Zeke had very little to his name. Most of his odds and ends were purely utilitarian, like replacement parts for his armour and such. Except for his shield, of course. The pure, radiant light it emitted was part of a charm placed there by Tatiana while it was being reforged, and it helped keep monsters at bay.

“It’s so you can always protect me…” Tatiana had told him. The woman hadn’t asked for much. She had taken him in, nursed him back to health, helped him regain his strength… she had always been there, and all she asked in return was that he stay by her side… she had a crush on him…

He thought about Alm, readying himself for what lay ahead. Rudolf wanted to meet with the bearer of Duma’s Brand. There existed a prophecy about him and another person his age, a bearer of Mila’s Brand. Their decisions would reshape the continent of Valentia into a new age. Rudolf told him, with a confident smirk in his eyes, that he had a cunning plan that would tip the odds of that new age being a Golden one into good favour. But Zeke, despite reflecting on the plan every night since news of Alm joining the Deliverance and having the Brand reached his ears, still didn’t see what was so cunning about it. All he could see was he challenged him to a duel. There had to be something he was missing, something that would make Alm’s victory do  _ something _ grandiose, but in the meantime, all he could do was set up that duel.

He thought of his own spar against Rudolf. They sparred to a draw, each blow being perfectly parried with neither man reaching an advantage before they both got mutually exhausted. He had a reputation as a feared knight, and his conquests against both Jerome and the monsters seemed to confirm he possessed strength. If Rudolf matched him, what hope did such a fresh-faced youth have… he could only hope his own skill had grown since that spar.

“Zeke…” Tatiana asked. Zeke turned, seeing her with tears in her eyes.

“...Who did you lose?” Zeke asked.

“I-Isabella,” Tatiana blurted out. Zeke winced, and held his arms out. Tatiana ran forward, and threw herself into them. Zeke stroked her back, imagining he was helping empty Tatiana of all her tears. But he knew this was going to remain with her forever. He still had nightmares about a dragon looming over him, nightmares he was sure related to his past life, even if he no longer had any context as to how that situation came about.

“Tatiana… are you sure you want to come with?” Zeke asked.

“Of course, Zeke. The safest place on the continent is wherever you are. Besides, it’s going to Rigel Castle. I’d be more worried about my safety if I stayed here. I just… I…” Tatiana muttered.

“I know. Loss is hard. But we must persevere. Alm will change the continent. Rudolf is sure of it,” Zeke told her.

“And you?” Tatiana asked almost instinctively. Zeke gave a small smile.

“No one man can change the continent that much. And I don’t think one more person is going to make that difference. Change on the scale the prophecy describes will take hundreds of people. But if Rudolf believes Alm can inspire that change… then I, too, will trust it is possible,” Zeke told her.


	19. Bewitched

Palla looked over the railing, sighing as they drew closer to port. Est was safe… safe and ready to return to Abel. Palla sighed, running her hand through her hair. She thought about that kiss Abel had given her, the night before he proposed to Est. She blushed, and looked up, noticing something strange. Any thought of the knight left her mind when she recognised screams.

“Catria! Est!” Palla cried. The two pegasi appeared behind her, wearing their armour- more than Palla could say, but the sight ahead proved it necessary. Both turned to their pegasi, and opened their pens. While Est jumped on, Catria stepped back and allowed her pegasi to flap his wings without her mounted. The four mages ran to the bow, frowning as they saw the sight. Mae prepared a fireball, but Celica held up her hand.

“You could burn down the whole village!” Celica pointed out. Mae groaned.

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Mae asked Kamui angrily.

“It can. I just want the pegasi comfortable first,” Kamui retorted. Mae blinked.

“There are more of us!” Mae yelled. Boey and Genny raised their arms, and Celica threw hers around Mae comfortingly.

“Pegasi will make more of an impact on arrival. Speaking of, Palla, better get your pegasus in motion anyway,” Kamui suggested. Mae was seething, but she didn’t withdraw from Celica’s grasp. Catria and Est nodded, and within a few moments of each other, had taken off. Palla wasn’t far behind, in spite of the pegasus’s shaky take-off. Kamui instantly did  _ something _ to make the boat go faster, leaving the mages sighing in relief that Mae would have her way soon enough.

Catria and Est looked about, identifying terrors ransacking the city. Catria gave some quick orders, and she and Est flew different directions, stemming different directions of attack. Palla flew to a third direction, throwing javelins from a safe distance and a parked pegasus. Catria’s wild lunging from revenant to bonewalker was stopped when she crossed blades with a villager.

“You can fight?” Catria asked.

“Who can’t? You never know when terrors are going to surge up. Next time, warn us when you’re gonna help us, OK!” the villager called, going toe to toe with a revenant. Catria decided he wasn’t doing so badly that she needed to help him, and looked out instead at the incoming bonewalkers. The  _ splash-thud _ of an anchor sounded from behind her, followed by the crackle of lightning and whooshing of flame. Catria sighed.

In Rigel, everyone fought. Even the children, rushing underneath Catria’s hooves to come close to a revenant. Catria threw a javelin its way before she could pretend the fight would go in the child’s favour at all.

* * *

Catria flew to the centre of the village once the three Whitewings had confirmed the absence of more Terrors. The rest of the villagers followed suit, lining up in some manner as a few more muscular men started running a headcount. Catria rushed to one side, where Valbar’s crew were standing. The men consulted with each other, and they all muttered.

“We lost three people this time,” one of them proclaimed. Instantly, Catria’s heart sunk. What was less encouraging was the smiles some of the villagers had.

“Is that a new record for us?” one of the children asked.

“I’m afraid it is… but I suppose we have these travellers to thank,” another of the men stated. He strode towards them, and held out his hand. Catria stepped forward to take it.

“Glad to be of service. As a foreigner, may I ask what just happened?” Catria asked.

“Rigel was founded by Duma, and Duma believes strongly in mankind’s strength. In contrast to Mila, he decided that Rigel would be a country built upon overcoming hardships,” Conrad explained. Catria turned to the muscled man, who nodded solemnly.

“These attacks are frequent. We’re a little remote as Rigelian villages go, so we see them every two to four weeks. I hear some bigger ones have them more than once a week,” he remarked.

“That’s barbaric,” Palla stated.

“It’s life, foreigner. We are born and raised like this. There’s not much that can be done. Men like us train to try and ease the burden on the mothers and children, but the fact remains that everyone who can swing a sword is often expected to do so,” he remarked. Catria sighed, remembering the child. Who knew how he was expected to survive the next fight, and the next one…

“At any rate, thanks to you, we have had our lowest death toll in some time. I assume we can’t expect you to stay?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not. We have to rescue the Zofian deity, Mila,” Boey stated. The man spat.

“Mila. She should have put Duma on a leash, not challenged him to cause this. The Zofians live high off the hog, and we’re left to fight for scraps. I hope to one day get strong enough to punch in the face of one of them,” the man growled.

“Mila did her best…” Nomah started.

“Don’t antagonise him further, Nomah. Depending on the circumstances, we might be able to remove this trial on the Rigelian people once we get to Duma Tower. But for now, we must meet Halcyon,” Conrad muttered. He turned, and froze.

“...Kamui, did you run a headcount?” Conrad asked.

“...I’m guessing I slacked off somewhere…” Kamui mumbled, taking in a breath.

“CELICA?” Mae cried out. Kamui’s focus was disrupted, and he resumed his normal stance.

“That would be the blind spot. I sensed Mae and assumed Celica would be nearby. On a scale of one to ten, how many digits do we need to express how bad this is?” Kamui asked. Mae took in her own breath, and closed her eyes.

“...I can… I can pick her up…” Mae muttered.

“Mae, are you going to follow her alone?” Boey asked.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that. But now that you mention it… Halcyon is still waiting. And knowing Cel, she’s going to be stubborn as a stone. Me working alone will have the best chance, but when I fail, she’s going up anyway. Might as well try and make the meeting quick enough with Halcyon that you can intercept her and give her the exposition dump on the spot,” Mae suggested.

“...Are you  _ sure _ you don’t need me or Boey?” Genny asked. Mae shook her head.

“Too many cooks spoil the soup. I’m guessing one of you could help, but I also want to catch her. I can go faster alone. Sorry, Genny, Boey, but you’re the only people I’d trust could help me convince Cel, and you’re both too slow,” Mae stated.

“No arguments here,” Boey mumbled.

“I suppose I’d be better off in Kamui’s company…” Genny muttered, before blinking.

“Good luck, Conrad…” Mae muttered, turning to leave.

“...I suppose I should say the same to you, milady,” Conrad suggested.

“Milady, huh? Guess I  _ do _ have a claim to the title… thanks, Conrad. Hope it helps,” Mae muttered, before running.

* * *

Celica passed the marshy lands and moved on to lightly-forested land, thankful that her journey might be faster. She had to get to Mila… and she had to do it now. Jedah and the Duma Faithful could help her, whenever she found them. But Conrad had gotten the idea of going to Halcyon into the group’s head first… she couldn’t afford any doubt.

If she didn’t act, Mila and Duma could find themselves completely gone.

“Cel?” a familiar drawl called. Celica closed her eyes, and continued her pace. Of all the people to follow… why did it have to be her?

“Cel, something’s wrong. I can tell,” Mae remarked. Celica turned to Mae, and saw wide, concerned eyes, tears welling up in their corners. Celica sighed, holding out her hands for Mae to dive in.

“I’m going to Duma Tower, Mae… I’ve gotta help Mila, no matter the cost,” Celica told her.

“And what makes you think we’re stopping you, Cel?” Mae asked. Celica took in a breath.

“You’re going to Halcyon’s first. Mae… I met Jedah,” Celica told her.

“Jedah is the…” Mae asked, looking at Celica in confusion.

“Head of the Duma Faithful. He tells me he knows a solution if only he had the power of my Brand. Mae, what’s the worst that can happen?” Celica asked.

“Cel… remember Barth? There are several things that could go wrong with trusting a man you hardly know,” Mae pointed out, grasping Celica’s back more tightly.

“And yet you’re trusting a guy who hasn’t taken off his mask,” Celica pointed out in turn.

“Nomah trusts him. And as bad as his judgement is, he… OK, I’ll fully admit I trust you more than him. But Jedah… OK, we know there’s some sort of rift between Jedah and Halcyon. Jedah has the gods, Halcyon has Nomah’s trust. Say we go to Jedah, and say it doesn’t help. Now what?” Mae asked. Celica stared into her eyes, preparing her response.

“Whatever happens if we fail can be no worse than if we take no action,” Celica claimed. It was Mae’s turn to stare, her glare still warm with their feelings even as she felt her judgement. But in the end, Celica felt the warmth prevail.

“All right. Someone’s gotta watch your back. Two pretty girls, one with magical power coveted by Duma’s Faithful? Recipe for disaster,” Mae stated. Celica beamed, kissing Mae on the cheek.

“Come on. Mila is waiting,” Celica claimed.

* * *

Nomah felt, rather than saw, the piercing glare Boey threw him. He sighed, knowing he was due an explanation.

“Boey, you must understand-” Nomah began.

“I understand that you were under the impression that Celica and Alm were to be married. What I want an explanation for is why you deemed it necessary that I be harshly scolded without explanation for the act of Celica hugging me,” Boey asked. Nomah stammered.

“Er… OK. I had thought the latter explained the former,” Nomah blathered.

“So in your eyes, there was no way I could be Celica’s friend without also being her boyfriend? Why even let me talk to her?” Boey asked.

“Because she needed every ally she could get. Look, Boey, you could tear into me all day long. We both know I was in the wrong on that one. I shouldn’t have done that. Why are you so persistent?” Nomah asked. Boey folded his arms.

“For the most part, I wanted an apology. Thank you, I have that much. But I  _ do _ have a few issues with hugging and such- not as bad as the girls have with the whole ‘getting kidnapped’ thing, but there’s a maiden who needs me after this war, and I want to be able to provide anything necessary for her and her tumultuous situation. Is there anything you’re going to be doing about that?” Boey asked. Nomah sighed.

“It gladdens me to hear you have plans for the future, especially of that nature. But you know I’m no expert on the mind. Your answer is not going to be found with me,” Nomah claimed. Boey rolled his eyes.

“Of course you’re no help. Why did I suspect otherwise? Thanks anyway, Nomah,” Boey muttered. Nomah suspected Boey hadn’t wholly intended he hear such scathing remarks, but if the extent of the damage was as he claimed, he honestly deserved to hear them. A child in his priory hadn’t felt safe… at least he could feel the shame of the news properly.

* * *

The Lost Treescape stood as a final obstacle to be overcome before the group could reach the Sage’s Hamlet. The heavy woods played havoc on the group’s sense of direction, and even with the aid of helpful stone waypoints and idle markings made in the dirt, the party still found themselves retracing their steps. Conrad called for a halt to collect his thoughts, and he went to one side to do so. He found himself followed by one of Celica’s assorted followers, the woman called Sonya.

“Can I help you?” Conrad asked. Sonya chuckled.

“You know, before I fell in with Celica’s lot, I was allied with a rugged mercenary named Deen. I was quite fond of him… but he died. Unfortunately, the fellow took his secrets with him,” Sonya stated. Conrad raised an eyebrow under the mask.

“And?” he asked.

“I’m not letting that happen again. I’d rather you didn’t die and keep the secrets with you,” Sonya stated firmly. Conrad realised what she was referring to immediately.

“I’d rather I not die at all… but I’m afraid I must disappoint you. I have no secrets,” Conrad told her. Sonya tilted her head.

“Then why do you wear a mask? Ugly scars?” Sonya asked. Conrad shook his head, and removed his mask. He got a clear view at the woman Sonya was- elegant makeup, a clear view of her cleavage, and a form-fitting robe.

“Self… self-confidents,” Conrad stammered.

“For real, or are you just saying that because I’m pretty?” Sonya drawled.

“F-f-for real. There’s no way I’d even  _ think _ about taking my mask of in front of An… Anthiese…” Conrad mumbled.

“Childhood crush?” Sonya asked. Conrad’s eyes widened and he gasped, blushing.

“N-n-no, Miss Sonya… you know N-Nomah doesn’t like Anthiese with other guys. Halcyon was the s-same… Anthiese was like a l-legend… and to meet her, a b-b-beautiful soul with a b-pretty girlfriend and such talentful magic… she’s seems too good to be t-true…” Conrad stammered. Sonya chuckled.

“My dear, no girl is too good to be true. My past? My father is a completely crazy warlock, emphasis on war, who took the souls of my sisters after abandoning us at an old priory. I escaped and vowed to take him down. From what I’ve gathered on your little crush Anthiese, she’s a girl who truly believes her father doing a bad job at King Zofia is enough to ruin her claim to the throne, so she instead focuses on being a priestess, caring for her little friends. I’d bet that she saw you without your mask, she’d smother you in a heartbeat,” Sonya told her.

“Y-You think so? I mean… d-do you want me to take my m-mask off for h-h-her?” Conrad asked.

“Why not? Whatever happens has gotta be cute. Just remember that Celica  _ does _ have a girlfriend, though,” Sonya told him, stroking his hair before leaving. Conrad blinked.

“I d-don’t have a crush on her, t-though…” Conrad mumbled, putting his mask back on. He had to focus on getting the group through the treescape.

* * *

Celica and Mae arrived at the foot of Duma Tower. Mae watched Celica look up at the tower’s immense length, lips fluttering in anticipation. Mae gave her a look, wondering what had made her falter after coming this far.

“Come on, Cel… Jedah’s doorstep and you pause?” Mae asked. Celica took in a breath, looking back.

“I just… Mae, what if we don’t come out?” Celica asked.

“Snap out of it, Cel! We’ve come too far to back out now. You must’ve sensed those dark presences, watching us. They  _ let _ you come here. I’ve got no idea why, but I don’t think they’d take kindly to you turning  _ back _ if they did that,” Mae pointed out. Celica turned back to the tower.

“But you know what, Cel? We’re going to save Mila. Because we’re awesome when we work together. You and me, powerful allies. Nothing to distract us. Nothing to divert us. Just two girls fighting to protect each other. There’s nothing Jedah can throw at us to shake that,” Mae told her.

“...Mae… I want to hear this from you… what if there is?” Celica asked. Mae glared at her.

“Well, in the  _ slight _ chance we lose, I’ll die happy because you’re with me. You stuck with me, Cel. Not even my mum did that much. You make me the happiest little mage in the world. But get that thought out of your head. We are  _ going _ to get Mila back, restore Duma so this never happens again, and then I’m going to take you home and make  _ you _ the happiest mage in the world. Got that?” Mae asked. Celica paused briefly.

“Yes, of course. I look forward to it, Mae…” Celica breathily told her. Mae took her hand.

“Then let’s get  _ fired up! _ ” Mae proclaimed.

* * *

It was to subdued celebration that Conrad escorted everyone from the Treescape. Boey and Genny were starting to sense the negative magic in the air- and the others could pick up on something along those lines. Conrad went straight to find Halcyon in his home, only to see him at the doorstep.

“Conrad… I fear the worst, but do you have Anthiese?” Halcyon asked.

“No, sir… Mae was supposed to retrieve her, but something must’ve happened…” Conrad muttered. Halcyon looked to the skies above.

“I’m afraid this Mae has failed us all,” Halcyon muttered.

“You’re blaming this on Mae?” Boey asked. Halcyon grimaced.

“I suppose that’s a little harsh… Of course, Jedah is the one who is causing this. But he could only do so with the power of a Brand-bearer…” Halcyon muttered, looking skyward.

“So what do you say, Father?” Conrad asked. Halcyon contemplated the matter.

“Perhaps… it is not over. The prophecy of the Brand-bearers, as with all prophecies of the time, was vaguely worded in how the predicted events would come to pass. Perhaps this is all part of the plan… but it remains that we are at risk until the other Brand-bearer comes to our aid,” Halcyon suggested.

“Alm, correct?” Nomah asked, turning to those who had been there.

“Yep, that Alm guy. Fairly nice, certainly someone I’d trust with Celica’s life… but right now, he’s charging on Rigel Castle to answer Rudolf’s request for single combat,” Boey pointed out. Nomah and Halcyon exchanged a glance.

“Rudolf is beholden to Jedah… this has got to be a trap. And if we lose Alm, the prophecy will not come to pass… or, worse, catastrophe was the intended meaning,” Halcyon muttered.

“So what  _ is _ the wording of this prophecy?” Boey asked. Halcyon looked up.

“...I’ll go dig it up. Give me a few minutes,” Halcyon muttered.

“I’ll come with,” Conrad proclaimed, darting forward.

“Not necessary. Last time you entered that library, you caused everything to come crashing down- it took  _ weeks _ to restore order. Better not risk it this time,” Halcyon told him.

“I was  _ six _ !” Conrad called after him, but Halcyon had already disappeared into the house.

* * *

Celica approached the door to the uppermost floor of Duma Tower. She and Mae had made the trip in quiet anticipation- though many of the Duma Faithful had passed them by, they did so with no malice beyond a few hisses. Mae suddenly remembered the cantor they fought when they first reached the mainland…

“Celica, are you sure about this?” Mae asked. Celica’s hands hovered a few centimetres from the door.

“...No, Mae. I have not been sure about this course of action. But it’s better than nothing,” Celica told her, pushing through the door and into the room. An altar in the middle, well-worn stone from kneeling, and of course, the sickly priest in the centre. Fairly standard room.

“So you came, milady… and who is this?” Jedah asked. Celica smiled nervously.

“This is my girlfriend, Mae. She was worried about me,” Celica told him.

“Natural, of course. Anyway, I’m afraid to say Mila isn’t actually here,” Jedah told her.

“What? But…” Celica stammered.

“I told you she was? Yes, well… it is a half-truth. You can indeed get to Mila’s location without leaving this building, but the process is long and convoluted and I didn’t want to bother pointing you this way and that when I can show you this…” Jedah remarked. He waved his hand, creating a strange sort of window in front of him. Celica peered into this window, seeing a stone, skeletal dragon.

“Is this… Mila?” Celica asked.

“I’m afraid her condition has grown quite dire. Milady, I know this is a big ask, but… I fear your soul, the very Essence of a Brand-bearer, is the only thing I can think of that might help Mila recover from her peril,” Jedah told her. Celica blinked.

“You want my soul… to save Zofia,” Celica stated, turning to Mae.

“Did you know about this, Cel?” Mae asked.

“I… I thought it might have come to this… but I wasn’t told ahead of time. But Jedah has a point. If I don’t sacrifice my soul… countless innocents could starve,” Celica pointed out.

“There’s gotta be… there  _ has _ to be another way! Cel, I made a promise that I would take you home after this and make you a very happy woman. I can’t exactly do that if you go and sacrifice yourself like some martyr!” Mae cried.

“Mae… I’m sorry. I truly am. But the people of Zofia cannot wait for another way. Mae… take care of Genny. Take care of all of them. And… take care of yourself, too…” Celica told her, before stepping in front of her. Mae’s eyes widened, as Celica pulled her in close and gave her one final kiss.

“Almost brings a tear to my eye…” Jedah mumbled, as the two parted. Mae was still crying as Celica turned to Jedah, but she stepped back, unable to bring herself to interfere.

* * *

Boey turned towards the woods, idly wondering how long Halcyon was going to be. He saw a faint streak of red near the trees, same colour as Celica’s hair. He nodded vaguely before turning back to Halcyon’s home. Celica was just out on a…

Boey’s head whipped back to the colour, and he saw Celica purposefully stride towards them. He let out a smile, before stopping himself. Celica was smiling back, but it certainly wasn’t her usual sweet, friendly one. It was a grin of maniacal glee, as she brandished a blade that, almost thankfully, wasn’t the Beloved Zofia.

“Celica?” Boey asked, stepping forward. Celica turned to him, and something flickered in her eyes. Before Boey could do more than notice, Celica had waved her sword, and the ground beneath his feet opened up. Boey gasped, alerting everyone else to Celica’s arrival.

“Celica!” Genny exclaimed, running forward. Celica waved her hand, tripping her over before another abyss formed, sending Genny down after Boey. Kamui and the other mercenaries approached, but Celica spread the chasm across a wide distance in front of her.

“You may be the body of our employer, but you act like nothing but. Nothing personal, milady, but I don’t like you trying to kill you closest friends. Be grateful I’m assuming they survived,” Leon told her, drawing back his bowstring and firing. Celica swung her sword into the arrow, sending it scattering away, before the chasm opened wider in the mercs direction and dropped them all.

“Catria! Est!” Palla called.

“Never underestimate a Whitewing!” Est followed.

“Especially not all three!” Catria added.

“TRIANGLE ATTACK!” Palla finished, and all three pegasi zoomed up. Celica closed her eyes, and felt them approach. She swung herself loosely, allowing Palla and Catria to soar past her and caught them on suddenly grown trees. Est caught her, and she tipped over.

“Got you now…” Est growled. Celica blasted an Excalibur up at her, and Est squeaked and dived aside. Celica focused, and summoned an entire tornado of Excaliburs, blasting all three girls from their pegasi.

“Hold it, witch!” Sonya cried out, tossing her own Excalibur into the mix. Celica turned on her heel, and held out her hand. Sonya shuddered, and shot into Celica’s grip. Celica considered her thoughtfully.

“Let… go!” Est cried, swinging a lance her way. Celica tossed Sonya aside, and parried Est’s blow, sending her staggering and falling into one of the now-abundant holes. Celica turned back to Sonya, who had also fallen below.

“Anthiese…” Conrad mumbled, having acquired his horse. He focused, and charged, attempting to clear the gap. Celica opened it wider, and Conrad found himself staggering into a takeoff, landing into the gap he intended to clear. With one swing, Nomah fell, and Celica closed the holes as quickly as she opened them. She turned and left, leaving a fire in her wake.

* * *

Mae shot her glare at Jedah, the Beloved Zofia held forth.

“All right, I’m having doubts you’ve been selling Celica the whole truth,” Mae told him. Jedah gave a soft chuckle.

“Well, I mean…  _ I’m _ having doubts I’ve told Celica anything completely truthful. Let’s start with the basics- I have not been acting in Mila’s best interests. All I want is for Duma to continue existing- without his power, me and my faithful followers lose our powers, immortality… it’s a bum deal for us. And he has been able to subsist on a steady diet of souls and sacrifices. But with Celica’s soul, and her destiny with Mila’s Brand… this soul might just be what Duma needs to live for quite a long time…” Jedah explained. Mae blinked.

“You… you sacrificed my girlfriend…  _ for your own personal gain _ ?” Mae screamed.

“To be fair, not my  _ personal _ benefit! I personally benefit, yes, but it’s not just me!” Jedah pointed out, but Mae fired a blast of flame his way. Jedah allowed his Blessing to dissipate the flame, and saw a Seraphim follow behind. Duma’s Blessing again mitigated it, and the thunderbolt dropped from above. Jedah had enough, and approached Mae to grab her and convert her to his side. Mae gave him a solid punch, right in the eye and not mitigated by Duma’s Blessing. Mae let out a gasp, and fired off a roundhouse kick. This  _ was _ met with the Blessing, and Mae stepped back. She turned, noticing a cantor in the doorframe, and decided now would be the time to bolt.

“S-Stop her!” Jedah cried out, but Mae let streams of magic discourage anyone who tried.

“Sir?” a cantor asked.

“It’s nothing, I’ll recover. That little witch, though… catch her alive at any cost. Her magic could very well feed Duma for years,” Jedah ordered.

“Yes, Lord Jedah,” the cantors replied, slinking out of the room.


	20. Lady of an Empire of Death

The Deliverance took the chance to rest a while in Zeke’s village, but they knew they had to march. The pace picked up, though Zeke requested that he, too, spar with Alm on their breaks. His own overpowering skill sent Alm sprawling with ease on the first few attempts, but Zeke refused to relent. When he told Mathilda he had sparred with Rudolf himself once, she accepted the same. Alm watched the way Zeke approached his first strike, and learned how to dodge- only to get hit by a lightning quick follow up. Alm grunted and continued, learning more ways a horseback unit had in store to thrust a lance into him- and, with any luck, their counters. Clair was watching one such sparring session from underneath a nearby tree, wincing with each failed strike. She deliberately left her lance in her tent, but each time Alm took a major strike, she got the urge to grab  _ any  _ lance and teach Zeke a lesson…

“Heya Clair. How’s tricks?” Gray asked. Clair looked up, and curtly nodded.

“You would be Alm’s friend Sir Gray, correct? Or was it Sir Tobin?” Clair asked.

“Sir Gray. Haven’t had the chance to talk to you one on one yet, have I? Probably time to fix that…” Gray told her. Clair shot him a glance.

“You  _ do _ realise I am smitten with Alm, right?” Clair asked.

“I’d be blind not to know. What I’m more interested in is your plan for after you two get married,” Gray told her. Clair could see him shaking, though.

“Well, when you’re a nobleman’s only daughter, beautiful and delightful, you tend to prepare yourself for a life of marriage. I consider myself lucky I managed a stint of adventure and got to choose a boy I had chemistry with. But Alm, though… do peasants have to deal with arranged marriages and the like?” Clair asked.

“Er, no… not our breed. Faye’s mum mentioned ‘she’d never sell Faye’, which sounds like some of them  _ might _ do it, but it’s never done in Ram,” Gray answered. Clair turned back to Alm.

“Then… if we don’t work out…” Clair mumbled.

“Clair, don’t worry. You don’t need to be literally perfect. Alm’s a forgiving guy. I’m sure he’ll love you no matter your quirks,” Gray told her.

“You think so?” Clair asked.

“Is it common for nobles to be so torn up over something like the way you eat? A fondness for bugs or something? I would be highly surprised if Alm does anything untoward or such, so you two should be as set as can be,” Gray suggested.

“That’d be nice, yeah… say, what’s Alm into?” Clair asked.

“Hm… well, he wasn’t too big on table manners at my house, but he lived with Mycen, so he might have them. He liked sneaking out with us, though he wasn’t as much a fan of the tree climbing,” Gray began. Clair gave a slight cough.

“...Look, I’m not a replacement for Alm. I don’t know everything about him. It might not even be being scared of heights. But if he is… that just means you don’t have to give him rides all the time. You can stick to letting him ride you,” Gray told her. Clair’s hand came around in a slap before she had even registered it.

“I deserved that one,” Gray squeaked out.

“...I apologise. It was an instinctive reaction from the way I was raised. But I would ask you not speak in such an uncouth manner to me again…” Clair asked.

“Sure. No prob,” Gray said, rubbing his cheek.

* * *

Tatiana led Delthea towards a lake, and sat her down at its side. Delthea instinctively chucked a stone into it, and Tatiana’s eyes narrowed. She scooped up her own stone, and flung it, sending it right across to the opposite shore. Delthea’s eyes widened in amazement.

“You’re pretty cool, Tatiana. Zeke loves ya, right?” Delthea asked.

“With his heart. Why, have a crush on him?” Tatiana teased, nudging her.

“No, of course not… I have a crush on a different boy. Kliff, the mage boy in Alm’s army? He’s all prickly on the outside, but inside, he’s a big softie,” Delthea told her. Tatiana gave a smirk.

“So, does he know?” Tatiana asked.

“Well, duh!” Delthea said. Tatiana gave her a pat on the head.

“Most people have figured out that much, dear. Puppy love, it warms people’s hearts. I think you two look  _ adorable _ together- but I respect Kliff would probably not like being told that. What I’m interested in is what you’re planning on doing about it,” Tatiana said.

“Huh? What I want to do? You mean, like…” Delthea wondered.

“Did you hear what the men were calling for you to do way back?” Tatiana asked.

“You mean stripping naked? First of all, ew. Second of all, why does Kliff even want to see me like that?” Delthea asked. Tatiana beamed.

“That’s perfectly fine. It’s not something you should have had to have considered so young. If you’re not comfortable, don’t do it. But something you might find more useful is doing things Kliff likes. Cook his favourite food, teach him some of the spells you know that he doesn’t… whatever. Of course, drop hints and see if he’ll do it back. You’ll want to find out exactly what kind of person he is before you commit to being his fiancee- but again, you’ve got years before that happens,” Tatiana told her.

“...Why do you even care?” Delthea asked. Tatiana smiled, running her hand across her cheek.

“You’re a sweet girl, Delthea. I want to make sure you’re not doing something you don’t want. I was lucky to find someone like Zeke. I just don’t want to see you not be so lucky. Kliff seems like a nice guy… I like your chances, but be careful,” Tatiana said.

“Yes, mum,” Delthea drawled. Tatiana giggled, and a blush shot up Delthea’s cheek.

“I’m… well, I suppose you’re welcome to come back to me if Kliff doesn’t work out…” Tatiana stammered.

“...Can I go now?” Delthea asked. Tatiana nodded.

* * *

Mathilda pursed her lips, looking up at the Rigelian fortress. Zeke and Tatiana had entered the place, and whatever they were saying seemed to be laying down their arms. Nevertheless, her eyes drifted to the fortifications, considering how she would approach besieging the place. Holes in the wall suggested arrows would be fired down upon anyone who tried pass through.

“A fiendish trap. It would certainly put a damper on Clair, but these don’t seem like they’d be easily added,” Lukas pointed out.

“For you, they might be trivial. For people without heavy armour, they’re just as deadly. Besides, Clair could go over, and I doubt the archers could shoot up as well,” Mathilda observed.

“Possible. Would’ve been fun to fight, though…” Lukas said.

“How could you say that, Lukas? Do you know how many casualties we would have faced?” Mathilda asked, aghast.

“I know, we lose many in our battles… but on the other hand, I’m wary of how little experience we’re getting. I’m worried the men will become rusty without these battles to keep their edge,” Lukas said.

“What battles will they be fighting? Alm duels Rudolf, and then what happens with the war? For some reason, I don’t see either outcome producing more war. If Alm loses… what then?” Mathilda asked.

“If Alm loses, we have little alternative. We must try and overpower Rudolf or die trying,” Lukas said sombrely. Mathilda looked towards Rigel Castle.

“I believe that can be arranged. Alm is not so overbearingly powerful that losing him is a massive blow to our firepower. Rudolf might be as tough as Zeke suggests, but there’s only one of him,” Mathilda said, clenching her fist.

“...May the people of Zofia never lose hope…” Lukas muttered.

* * *

Clair looked up the horizon. In the distance, barely discernable, was what Zeke had pointed out as Rigel Castle. It would not be long until the duel. Tomorrow, or maybe the day after, Alm would battle Rudolf man to man. And he would win… and he would return to her side.

“Tense?” Zeke’s booming voice asked. Clair jumped, turning towards him.

“Moreso now that you’ve gone and done that. Is Alm ready to fight Rudolf?” Clair asked. Zeke turned to him, sparring with Mathilda. Alm dodged a sudden swift strike from Mathilda, but stumbled slightly on landing.

“...I will not lie to you. No. The boy can hold his own and maybe deal some damage, but he cannot do both well enough to tip the odds of victory in his favour. But there’s little more I can do. I am not a wonderful teacher who can simply ‘train harder’ Alm’s flaws. Alm must prove he can win himself. I would love to be proven wrong. But I must come to face facts,” Zeke told her. Clair watched Alm fight, dodging a few of Mathilda’s blows before rolling and preparing one of his own.

“Theoretically, let’s say I charged in and saved Alm…” Clair started.

“Out of the question. Single combat, to the death. You’d have to kill Rudolf to even  _ consider _ getting away with it. And if you did, things would hardly end well for either of you. Rigel values strength. The penalty for doing so… is… er…” Zeke said. Clair’s eyes widened.

“You don’t know?” Clair asked.

“I’ve seen single combats, but the rule has never come up. I should’ve brushed up… but I never found a rulebook. Regardless, Rudolf wants this. For what purpose, probably also in that rulebook I didn’t find. I just can’t see you charging in and stopping him being productive,” Zeke told her. Clair nodded, turning to Alm. Perhaps she was left hoping for the best.

After all, she hadn’t had any training for dealing with powerful horsemen. All she was skilled at was throwing javelins from afar to scatter enemies and duelling lightly armoured foes.

“...Clair. I do not know the consequences of the actions you have planned. But I do have an idea as to the worst they could be. Consider whether you are willing to take that chance,” Zeke said. Clair’s eyes widened, but Zeke had turned away. Did Zeke want her to take her chances?

* * *

Alm thanked Mathilda for the spar, and moved under a tree while he took a breather. Although she stood back, he could sense Clair watching him… the thought filled him with less of a sense of wanting to impress the cute girl and more of a sense of feeling he was disappointing her. He wasn’t as strong as Rudolf was probably expecting… he stood a good chance of dying fighting Rudolf. And dying would just hurt Clair… somehow, this possibility scared him more than his own death.

“How’s it hanging, Alm?” Python asked. Alm jumped, spinning around to face him- and, as it turned out, Forsyth.

“Your battle instincts are superb, Sir Alm!” Forsyth proclaimed, loud enough that Alm’s hands started moving towards his ears.

“I don’t think anyone would not have jumped as far back after a greeting like that,” Alm said, shooting a stern glance between the pair. If either was deterred by the noble rank in which Clair’s attraction to him would suggest, they didn’t show it.

“Figures. You’ve dipped your toe into the nobility and you’re forgetting your common roots,” Python said.

“Python! Not all of us enjoy sneaky approaches,” Forsyth exclaimed. Alm chuckled.

“I’m no noble, Python. There’s a whole other way of living in there that’ll take me years to grow accustomed to. In wartime, I’m not even going to get started,” Alm said.

“Sir Alm, are you sure you can take Rudolf?” Forsyth asked. Alm chuckled nervously.

“Zeke keeps telling me Rudolf is one of the foremost knights in all of Rigel. Yeah, I’m not confident at all. All I’m doing is telling myself Clair needs me to survive, and hopefully that will carry me to safety. Success is another matter,” Alm sighed.

“Well, at least charging into danger for the sake of a pretty lady is something both nobles and commoners agree on,” Python laughed. Forsyth rolled his eyes.

“Sir Alm, know that we, the people of Zofia, stand in your corner. You have gone toe to toe with Slayde and Desaix, fought off Delthea long enough for Clair and Mathilda to defeat Tatarrah, and beheaded the dreaded Nuibaba. What’s the most powerful knight in Rigel compared to them?” Forsyth pointed out proudly.

“More skilled in combat,” Alm muttered.

“You’ll be fine, Alm. Or dead. Either way, worrying just means you suffer twice,” Python drawled.

“Thanks,” Alm said, not entirely sincere.

“Don’t mention it,” Python replied in a similar tone.

* * *

Rudolf looked over the advancing army, clenching his fists. So he had come… he had met the challenge. Today would be a historic day in the history of Valentia… it would be a day a great king rose or fell. The fate of the entire continent rested on who won today’s battle. The pressure was on.

“Hello, Rudolf,” Jedah’s snarl sounded. Rudolf turned to him, trying his hardest to hide his frustration and fury. Jedah bowed politely, a pretty girl at his side adding a curtsey. Her dead eyes remained boring into him, telling him the girl was one of Jedah’s cursed witches.

“Jedah. The Deliverance approaches. My challenge stands. Sir Alm shall fight me in  _ single combat _ . I will brook no interference from you, from your witches, or from any Rigelian soldier magically infused with magic under your control,” Rudolf told him.

“Of course, your Majesty. Are you sure you don’t want to be infused yourself?” Jedah asked.

“I am sure. If I win, my win needs to be legitimate for the desired outcome to unfold. I’m sure someone who works through deceit and trickery wouldn’t think of such an outcome immediately, so I’m happy to explain it,” Rudolf said.

“Of course, your Majesty. I shall remain and, er…  _ enforce _ your little ultimatum,” Jedah chuckled, slinking away. The girl hovered as she followed behind him, and Rudolf briefly mourned whatever life she had. He looked down, and saw Alm within striking distance of the castle. Ladies Clair and Mathilda rode a short distance behind him, and behind  _ them _ , the sprawling army of the Deliverance.

“Emperor Rudolf of Rigel. News of a challenge to single combat has reached my ears. Where does this challenge stand?” Alm boomed, with the resolve of a knight and the uncertainty of one raised with commoners. Rudolf briefly reconsidered whether challenging someone so youthful was the correct course of action, but if the boy had resolve, so too should he.

“You have heard correctly, Sir Alm. I issue a challenge to you. Defeat me in single combat, and your goals- nay, your destiny shall be fulfilled. Should I win, something along the same lines should befall me. Will you accept my challenge?” Rudolf asked. Alm turned to the women behind him. Mathilda gave a curt nod, and Clair a loving smile. Alm turned back to Rudolf.

“I accept, your Majesty,” Alm stated.

“Wonderful! Then your friends are no longer necessary,” Jedah exclaimed. Rudolf and Alm jumped, turning to the figure on one of the towers. Jedah leaned over the battlements, beaming with glee at the people below. Beside him stood the witch, who raised her sword. With a rumble, the ground underneath the Deliverance’s feet began to part, and those closest to the front fell underneath. Clair shot into the sky, and scooped up Alm, shooting into the sky above Rigel Castle. The rank and file backed away, as the floor sealed up before them.

“No, no, no, Anthiese, I ordered you wipe them  _ all _ out!” Jedah cried.

“Jedah. I will not brook indiscriminate murder of Alm’s allies. I understand that what you have done does not contradict an earlier order, and apologise for not making it plain for you. Now, kindly remove yourself from my presence. You have lost the right to spectate this occasion,” Rudolf coolly said.

“I’ve seen enough of an old man beating up a little boy. Come, Anthiese. We have more important things to witness,” Jedah snarled. He vanished in a ring of light, and the witch Anthiese did the same. Rudolf looked overhead, to see Clair soaring overhead. Rudolf stepped back, and Clair dived to the battlements, perching and dismounting alongside Alm.

“That man did not act under my orders, Lady Clair. You are entitled to deliver retribution unto him regardless of this battle’s outcome,” Rudolf said.

“Oh, I intend to teach that good for nothing murderer a lesson or two. But I’ve gotta support my fiance. You can do it, Alm,” Clair said, kissing his cheek. Rudolf nodded politely, and took his lance Geirskögul. Alm pulled out the Sword of Royalty, and levelled it. It remained steady.

“At your ready,” the two invited the other in unison, before charging. Alm jumped, delivering a more overhead blow. Rudolf took it to his shield, giving a nudge to drop him to the ground. Geirskögul came down in an overhead swing, and the fact overheads were tricky to master with a lance saved Alm. Rudolf cast a glance to his other choices, Wolf Berg and Amatsu, before Alm was bearing back on him. Rudolf blocked it with his shaft, but Alm placed his right hand on the sword and pushed harder. Rudolf jumped back, and Alm took the chance to swing fast. Rudolf took most of the blows to the chest, but their low power meant they did little more than scratch his armour. Noticing this, he thrust Alm back with his shield, angling it up so Alm was less inclined to fall. Alm saw Geirskögul prepare to lunge, and fell anyway.

“Come on, Alm…” Clair muttered. Rudolf found himself thinking the same thing. This was a momentous occasion in Rigelian history. And yet, he agreed with Jedah’s observation that it was more like the slaughter a child.

“Is that the best Zofia can do?” Rudolf asked.

“Far from it…” Alm growled, and began his assault anew. Learning from his earlier folly, he began swinging heavy blows, careful to keep up the speed. Geirskögul was a terrible weapon to parry with, while his shield could only protect one side of him, heavy as it was. He felt bites into his armour that stung, but were hardly lethal. Rudolf lunged and swept, looking for the sweet spot on his lance. The disadvantages of his choice were beginning to become apparent, but Rudolf was hardly going to give up now. He gave one last swipe before preparing another tactic, only to notice Alm had been knocked to the ground by it. Geirskögul was swiftly brought to Alm’s face, as he rolled over to be facing up.

“I’m… not done yet…” Alm gasped, grabbing Geirskögul and pulling himself up. With a hearty tug, Geirskögul came free, and Alm tossed it towards Clair. Alm’s following assault battered Rudolf, sending him staggering.

“Neither am I,” Rudolf growled, grabbing Wolf Berg. The axe cleaved down, and Alm jumped back. The following blow, a sweeping slash, hit Alm right in the side, knocking him almost off the battlements.  At the very least, Alm’s front tipped over the side, the Sword of Royalty dropping to the ground below. Rudolf brought down his axe, only to see a trident block it. Rudolf’s eyes shot to the holder, seeing Clair opposite him, furore in her face.

“Stand back, child. This duel is Alm’s, and Alm’s alone,” Rudolf ordered.

“And I never accepted that from the start. If you wanted us to play fair back, you shouldn’t have invaded us,” Clair said, swinging up. Wolf Berg actually came up and away from Alm, and Clair took the chance to pull him to safety.

“Very well, Lady Clair. May your death be a glorious one at the hands of Rigel’s Emperor himself,” Rudolf proclaimed, swinging Wolf Berg with a heavy backhanded blow. Clair’s trident had much of the same issue as Geirskögul earlier, and Clair, with her willowy armour and slender figure, crumpled almost as solidly as Alm had. Clair at least managed to not be slammed off the battlements. Rudolf smirked, turning to face Alm again.

“...On your knees…” Clair called. Rudolf looked up, seeing the trident flare up, a black aura surrounding it and the girl. Clair lunged forward, and thrust the trident into his chest. The aura surged, and the trident slowly, carefully pressed into his armour until it reached his chest, and even further still. Clair stepped back, the trident falling away, and Rudolf dropped to the ground. Clair paused for breath, surprised at what she had done. She looked, noticing Rigelian soldiers had appeared at either end of the battlements, but they remained, frozen in shock and confusion. She turned back to Rudolf thoughtfully.

“Young lass… please…” Rudolf muttered. Clair looked back towards Alm, to see some Rigelians approach him. She made to step in his direction, but Rudolf held up a hand. Alm was being attended to. He was all right.

“What is it you wanted from us?” Clair asked.

“I don’t want to spend too long explaining why. I don’t have much time left, and Massena can explain it to you later. Just know that… I am satisfied with how this went,” Rudolf muttered. Clair smiled.

“If defeat was your goal, I was happy to help you achieve it. But why Alm?” Clair asked. Rudolf looked down in disappointment.

“Alm… is my son. He has the Brand of Duma. I wanted him to have the strength to overthrow me… so he could overthrow those accursed Duma Faithful wretches… but again, Massena can explain further. What I want to hear, my dear, is who exactly you are,” Rudolf muttered. Clair nodded.

“I am Clair, noble of Zofia and Alm’s girlfriend,” Clair told him. Rudolf smiled.

“Beautiful and tough on the battlefield. I would have loved to have you as a daughter-in-law. I would have loved to have met in those peaceful conditions, smiling with pride as we dined and talked. At the very least, I feel lucky to have met you before I died. Please, my dear… help ease Alm’s burdens any way you can. That prophecy… Anthiese. Jedah’s witch was Anthiese. Now, more than ever, my Alm’s Brand marks him for a tough battle to lead Valentia into a new era. Promise me you’ll make sure it’s a good, prosperous one,” Rudolf asked. Clair grinned.

“You can bet I’m doing that much. Though there better be a good explanation for why you abandoned your son,” Clair firmly told him.

“...I hope it’s good enough. Some days, I doubt that myself. But I’m sure that, were it not for my actions, you and he might never have met… or at least, never in a capacity where you might have formed an attraction to each other. Just… try not to let history judge me too quickly for what I had to do,” Rudolf remarked. He let out a cough, and sunk to the ground. Clair bowed her head, before turning to find this Massena fellow.

* * *

Massena looked quite large to Clair when she found him waiting expectantly at the battlement’s end, but when he let out his booming laugh and knelt down politely, Clair realised he was on the shorter end. She let out a sigh she hadn’t quite noticed she was holding in, and allowed Massena to walk beside her as they went with Alm to an infirmary within the castle. Massena chose not to explain Rudolf’s actions until Alm was awake, so they instead passed the time by discussing Alm and Clair’s past. Massena was beaming rather proudly as Clair told him about how they had met, fought together, and after Faye’s death, began to bond closely. Alm began to stir, and Massena gave a short bow.

“Master Alm, how are you?” Massena asked. Alm shook his head of weariness, and looked up at Massena thoughtfully. Considering Clair was beside him, at ease, Alm trusted.

“Well enough,” Alm told him.

“Good. Because Rudolf’s plan concerns you most. Did Sir Mycen tell you you were adopted?” Massena asked. Alm blinked.

“Adopted? No. But he was fond of telling me there was something that… hold on, this is the longest he’s gone without telling me… something about something circumstance didn’t want me to know now or something…” Alm answered, rubbing his head in confusion.

“Sounds like something he’d say. Alm, you are Rudolf’s son, Albien Alm Rudolf II. I was there when you were born,” Massena said. Alm nodded vaguely.

“Can we not talk about the circumstances of my birth around Clair?” Alm asked. Clair turned to Massena, puzzled.

“I think the wound is still affecting him,” Massena suggested.

“That’s not what I was confused about,” Clair blurted out, looking back at Alm.

“It aches, but I heard a bit of Rudolf’s last words. So I’m his son? Why’d he want to fight me so bad, then?” Alm asked. Massena chuckled.

“Rigel’s crown does not pass from father to son like Zofia’s does. At least, we prefer it not to. To claim Rigel’s crown, you need to best the sitting Emperor in fair combat. That’s all. Regardless of your heritage, you could’ve done it. Berkut could’ve done it. Mathilda could’ve done it. Heck, technically,  _ Clair _ did it,” Massena explained.

“Rigelian through and through. Using fighting to solve their problems. Wait…  _ wait, I’m Empress of Rigel _ ?” Clair said, jaw dropping. Massena again dropped to one knee.

“The country of Rigel is yours to command, your Majesty,” Massena pledged. Clair stifled a laugh. It was that easy… all along, Rudolf was looking for Alm to dethrone him.

“Why did Rudolf want Alm to overthrow him so bad?” Clair asked.

“The sorceror, Jedah. He managed to sneak his way into a position of power over Rudolf. As he was, Rudolf had no hope of destroying Jedah and his cult. He placed his hope in Sir Mycen- when Alm was but hours old, before the Duma Faithful could catch wind of his birth, Rudolf entrusted Mycen with his care, and sent him to Zofia, so that Alm could grow to be a different man than he would be raised a Rigelian prince,” Massena started.

“But why?” Alm asked. Massena walked over to him, and pulled his left hand up.

“This. The Brand of Duma. A prophecy from long ago stated that the bearers of Mila and Duma’s Brands would change the course of Valentia’s history, and usher in a new age. Jedah would do anything to make that new age one under his malevolent rule, beholden to a dying Duma subsisting entirely on the corpses of young maidens. Rudolf sent you to Zofia to hide you, and Mycen to Zofia to find and protect whoever bore Mila’s Brand,” Massena explained. Alm nodded vaguely.

“But the bearer of Mila’s Brand parted ways with us,” Clair bemoaned.

“Unfortunately, it seems Anthiese fell into Jedah’s clutches. It was a witch with her body that opened the chasm under the Deliverance. As for where her soul is? Duma has it now,” Massena sighed. Alm shuddered.

“Damn it!” he yelled, holding his head in equal parts shame and pain from the yell.

“All hope is not lost. The prophecy is vague, yes, but that works in our favour as much as it does his. Jedah will be holed up in Duma Temple below, as will Duma himself. Alm, for the sake of all of Valentia, he must be stopped,” Massena claimed.

“Like this?” Clair asked. Massena chuckled.

“Of course not. As your advisor, I advise that you spend the night resting from the duel before you engage in what might become a long, gruelling slog. Besides, there are things I want you to take before you depart. Now, your Majesty, may I escort you to your new room? Alm will be sent up in a bit, if he’s cleared,” Massena asked. Clair turned to Alm.

“Why not, Clair? I’m not feeling too bad, so I don’t think I’ll need to stay. But I do defer to the judgement of people who can actually  _ see _ my wounds,” Alm assured her. Clair turned back to Massena, and nodded.

* * *

When Alm was escorted to Rudolf’s, now his, personal chambers after an hour, it was to find Clair idly wandering around the room, looking from decoration to decoration with a vaguely judgemental eye, taking some down, leaving others up, moving some around. Alm knocked on the door, and Clair turned, nodding.

“Salutations, your Majesty,” Alm said. Clair let out a small smile.

“Salutations. My, it’s been a while since I’ve said that…” Clair chuckled.

“Thought you could use the chuckle,” Alm told her.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. Why would I need a chuckle?” Clair asked.

“Jedah’s chasm opening behind us. Massena sent someone to check on them. We don’t have Mathilda, my friends from Ram, Delthea…” Alm told her.

“Alm, I was close to Mathilda. In time, perhaps I became closer to her than my own brother. I… I don’t feel like she’s dead,” Clair said.

“You think Jedah spared her?” Alm asked.

“I think  _ Celica _ spared her. I want to believe she’s all right. It’ll take more than a fall to kill my Mathilda. My only worry is where they went,” Clair firmly stated. Alm nodded.

“If they’re alive, Jedah probably knows where they are. We’ll get him to spill the beans,” Alm proclaimed. Clair nodded, turning back to the decorations.

“...Please, Mathilda… if you can hear me…” Clair muttered. Alm stood back, but Clair turned and pulled herself into a hug with him.

“...Tomorrow can’t come soon enough,” Clair whispered.

“They’ll be fine, Clair,” Alm told her. He stepped back, and went to find the closet.

“Rudolf’s jammies aren’t going to fit you,” Clair told him.

“At least they won’t be too small,” Alm joked back.


	21. Encounters in Duma's Land

Massena smiled as he looked between his new lieges. Lady Clair fussed over Alm, while Alm nervously talked with each and every Rigelian soldier brave enough to volunteer to follow him if they really volunteered, and if they needed anything. Massena briefly recalled his reasoning against what would start today. The pair were still young… but that was not enough anymore. Just getting here proved enough. Besides, they were about to become the Emperor and Empress of Rigel. They needed experience in battle.

“Alm, Clair… I have brought you with me to this most sacred of places in Rigel Castle. This is the Duma Shrine- this place can concentrate Duma’s power and grant immense strength to those who seek it. Only the Emperor is permitted to use the power in this room,” Massena told them. Alm and Clair looked up at the imposing statue.

“You want us to use it?” Alm asked.

“You need every advantage you can get against Jedah,” Massena reminded them. Alm nodded, and stepped forth, kneeling at the statue. Clair looked up, noticing an almost imperceptible nod of the head from it. A dull light shot from Duma’s chest, enveloping Alm completely. When it faded, it was to Alm in a modified suit of armour. Namely, there was more of it, and gratuitous adornments scattered around. Alm stretched, figuring out the movement part, before drawing his sword and heaving it over his shoulder.

“Now I’ll show what I can really do,” Alm proclaimed. He stepped forward, staggering slightly in the firm armour.

“I might need to remove a fitting or two. But I feel stronger…” Alm remarked. Clair nodded, and stepped forward, kneeling in turn. She, too, was bathed in Duma’s light, preparing her for her new power. The light faded, and she got to her feet, turning to face Alm.

“If this is the life the Father would have me lead…” Clair proclaimed. Alm’s jaw, however, just dropped. Clair glanced down, and noticed immediately what caused it. Unlike Alm, who gained more armour, she gained a form-fitting black top that didn’t even cover her midriff or most of her breasts.

“If I had known…” Massena started, and ducked a sudden fireball. Clair blinked, looking at her still warm hands.

“I’m going to go change still,” Clair said simply, and Alm and Massena turned to allow her privacy. At least her old falcoknight uniform had appeared at the base of the statue. Once Clair had resumed her more modest uniform, she casted another Fire to prove she could.

“Your Majesty, I must again present my apologies. But as long as you still have the strength provided by Lord Duma, this visit has still served its purpose,” Massena assured her. Clair looked at the costume.

“...Besides, the costume itself isn’t half bad. I just wouldn’t wear it in this situation. We’re going underground, right?” Clair asked.

* * *

Alm and Clair stared into the long, dark tunnel, looming before them from within the castle’s basement. Alm had Wolf Berg and Amatsu at his hip alongside his Sword of Royalty, while Clair had brought along Geirskögul, a large supply of javelins and a spare Angel Ring to help control her magic. Both took in a breath, their hands reaching for these to draw comfort.

“This path leads to Duma Temple. Know that this journey shall be the hardest you have encountered thus far, and should you enter, Jedah’s magic shall make it difficult for you to return. My lord, my lady… if it weren’t for the fact that your friends are down there, I would try to talk you out of this,” Massena told them. Clair smiled- her hunch was right.

“How do you know?” Alm asked.

“I studied a bit of magic in my youth. Was never really good at it, but I recognised Anthiese’s spell. Also, Alm… Jedah and his forces aren’t the only thing down there. Berkut watched your fight, but we haven’t seen him since,” Massena told them. Alm blinked.

“Berkut… the knight who killed my grandfa- Mycen,” Alm growled.

“He will resent your victory over Rudolf. To be fair to him, it wasn’t the fair victory he would’ve had to have achieved to become Emperor himself. But if he’s down there, expect him to lash out. Just try not to judge him too harshly,” Massena explained.

“So find and kill Jedah and Berkut, restore Duma and Celica, and locate everyone in the Deliverance- and, with any luck, Celica’s friends. Someone write down a checklist,” Clair snarked.

“Whatever lies in wait at the end of these corridors… Jedah at the helm of an army composed of monsters we can only begin to contemplate… it sets my hairs on end. The Lord of Rigel awaits, and here I am, utterly terrified. But if I am to close the book on this war, I must press on. Brave volunteers, will you do the same?” Alm asked. The few Rigelian soldiers who still stood behind him raised their lances in assent.

“...Then let’s press on. And on. And on,” Clair finished, urging her pegasus forward.

* * *

Berkut looked at the bonfire within Duma Temple, every bone in his body still trembling with fury, but his mind not entirely sure how he was to act on his hatred. He came down here to escape the adulations being piled on that Zofian brat Alm, but for now, he had no plan beyond today.

_ Call to me… I shall grant you power… _

“Who’s there?” Berkut asked, looking up.

“It’s just me, Berkut…” Rinea’s soft voice echoed from behind him, her dainty footsteps echoing louder as she approached. Berkut allowed her to wrap her arms around him.

“Berkut… you’re not upset about losing the Rigelian throne, are you?” Rinea asked.

“Upset? No, of course not, dear. Alm was on the cusp of defeat, and then what happens? His weak little pegasus girlfriend swoops in, saves him and gets the glory. I’m not upset, Rinea… I AM FURIOUS!” Berkut sobbed. Rinea jumped, her grip not loosening for a moment.

“Now, now, Berkut… I know it’s not fair, but step back, breathe, and think things through,” Rinea said. Berkut let out an anguished sound between a sob and a snarl.

“What’s the point, Rinea? Years of training, months of studying nobles and regal duties… only to be usurped by a common brat with neither? Am I supposed to live knowing I failed you, knowing that you can never be the Empress you deserve to be…” Berkut cried. Rinea stroked his back, debating telling him the truth. She never wanted to be Empress… she was content where she sat, perhaps wanting to be less prominent so she wouldn’t even need to pretend to go to balls. But as she listened to Berkut’s sobs, she decided on an alternative suggestion.

“Berkut… there’s two of us. A proud knight and his valiant lady. We can challenge Alm  _ and _ Clair together. No surprise combatants. And when we win…” Rinea told him. Berkut looked at her, the confidence in his eyes beginning to return.

“...Rinea… you’d do that for me?” Berkut asked.

“Berkut… if it will make you happy, I’ll do anything. Now, darling, I believe you had a lance in your pocket,” Rinea giggled. Berkut’s eyes widened, and he pulled Nuibaba’s mirror out.

“Why do I even still have this? I’m never going to use it. Come, Rinea, let’s go,” Berkut said, tossing the mirror aside. He held out his arm, and Rinea snuggled into his side. The pair made to return to the surface, only to feel themselves frozen in place. They turned, seeing a light shine brightly from the bonfire. Berkut looked around for the shards of the mirror, to see nothing of the sort.

“The mirror went in the fire…” Berkut realised.

“Hold me, Berkut. Whatever happens, I want it to happen to us both!” Rinea cried, tightening her grip. Berkut squeezed her in turn, and presented his back to the light.

* * *

Mae turned the front of the Turnwheel, again not feeling the sensation of time rewinding. She growled, rearing back to throw the Turnwheel into the ground. It was a profoundly magical artefact that Boey risked his life to save, but if it didn’t work for her, it was hardly useful anymore. Except… there had to be more. Mae sighed, and tried again. She thought of Celica, practicing rewinding it back on Novis. The gentle grip she had, and the jerk behind the navel as Mae found herself moved from one end of a courtyard to another. And then a very different memory of Celica came to the forefront of her mind. Celica, curled up and crying, and then Mae’s own arms came around to hold her, to comfort her…

“Celica…” Mae sobbed, turning the Wheel. She felt a slight jerk at her hip, and time seemed to have stopped. She twisted, and the familiar jerk came to the forefront. She tried again, and smiled. She managed that part. She knelt down, and scooped up a particularly jagged stone. She held it in her left hand, and looked down at her right. She knew what the Brand of Mila felt like, having held Celica’s hand many times… she bit her lip, and pressed the stone against the palm of her hand. She wanted to scream at the pain as she tore through her skin, but she knew that screaming would only invite monsters. She had to bear it as she cut a vertical line, and then two curves either side. She didn’t even know if this would do what she wanted… but with Celica dead, she had to try.

“Mother Mila… please…” Mae cried, rubbing her hand against the stone ground, leaving her blood behind. She hurriedly tied a cloth around it, to stop it bleeding for when she’d have to cast with those hands. She clipped the Turnwheel to her belt, and turned. Somewhere, Jedah was using Celica’s witch for evil purposes. And she’d have to find them… and slaughter Jedah.

“You’re gonna pay for what you did to Celica, buddy… you’re gonna pay HARD,” Mae cried.

* * *

Gray scooped up Delthea’s head, pressing his hand against her wrist. He knew this was done when people were unconscious, but he wasn’t entirely sure why. He just knew his mate’s girlfriend needed him. And he wasn’t going to let him down.

“C’mon, Delthea, talk to me…” Gray muttered, looking her up and down for a clue as to how to revive her. He heard someone ride up behind him, and hop down.

“Mathilda?” Gray asked, only for Mathilda to push him aside and pull Delthea towards flatter ground. She pressed lightly against her chest, and gave her a few taps on the cheek. She sighed, and opened a satchel at her hip, pulling out a few herbs. Both Gray and Delthea blanched at the smell.

“Did that work?” Mathilda asked.

“Sure, why not?” Delthea replied, pulling herself up and stretching out slightly. She summoned a fireball, and tossed it over her shoulder.

“So, what now?” Delthea asked. Mathilda looked around, brandishing her lance as she looked between dark corridor number one and dark corridor number two.

“This doesn’t look promising… which corridor do we pick?” Gray asked.

“The quieter one. The less fights we get into while we get our bearings, the better,” Mathilda explained. Delthea pulled out a pair of fireballs, and floated them towards both halls. A faint stir only became apparent in one of the halls.

“Take the other one,” Delthea remarked, throwing the fireball at whatever it was in the darkness. Gray listened, and heard only a guttural monster scream. He nodded, and grabbed Delthea’s arm as he followed after Mathilda.

“All we’re asking is the ability to live as we think best… is that  _ really _ so bad?” Gray asked himself. Delthea just limited herself to keeping an eye on the rear.

* * *

Tatiana shivered as Zeke looked around. Silque held her hand as she kept an eye on their rear, brandishing her staff. They had heard monster growls, and it would be a case of when, and what type, the monsters would come.

“Zeke…” Tatiana stammered.

“I know, my love… I’m scared, too,” Zeke remarked, pointing his lance forward. After thirty seconds, he continued his wider scanning.

“If it weren’t for the fact Zeke rides, this would probably be a great time for the two of you to snuggle into each other while you watch,” Silque suggested. Tatiana turned to her, confused.

“...You know, you take your girlfriend somewhere scary so she clings to you for comfort, except this place is actually dangerous?” Silque asked.

“I’m unfamiliar with that tradition,” Zeke said.

“Besides, even if Zeke was a fair dismounted fighter, clinging onto him would still waste valuable time while we untangle. This isn’t time for romance,” Tatiana added. Silque sighed.

“You’re right… but it’s just such a shame. I feel weird, holding your girlfriend’s hand,” Silque said. Tatiana unclenched her hand, bringing her hands in front of her to wring while Silque took a double-handed grip on her staff.

“We fight off monsters from our village all the time. We’re used to not being sappy every minute,” Tatiana assured her.

“Here they come!” Zeke yelled. Tatiana came forward, firing Seraphims while Silque remained in the rear, casting Heals as she watched that end. Zeke charged in, knocking aside monsters with ease and his lance. Tatiana blushed, almost missing an approaching bonewalker, but Silque caught him with a Seraphim. Tatiana healed her in gratitude, and resumed the fight.

* * *

Genny recoiled, watching a series of revenants approach from behind. She turned to Valbar, who was valiantly fending off bonewalkers, and Sonya, who was shredding mogalls, and nodded, preparing her own Nosferatus to fend off the horde. She knocked down one, two, three, but not quite fast enough to slow the horde. A revenant reached her, and exhaled an arctic-cold breath before Sonya dispatched of it. Genny dropped to the ground, shivering, and Sonya called Valbar to move back closer to her.

“Genny…” Sonya called, casting a heal spell. Genny let out a shuddering cough, and Sonya jumped back.

“...That’s a new one on me…” Sonya muttered, looking around vaguely. Her eyes lit up on some vaguely edible-looking moss, and she took a few pinches to feed to Genny. Genny immediately coughed them up, and upon taking a taste for herself, Sonya found herself agreeing.

“Sorry I don’t have anything tastier on me… um… Mila statue. We need to find a Mila statue…” Sonya whispered, looking around before scooping Genny up. Genny coughed again, and Sonya jumped back.

“...Valbar…” Genny coughed.

“I’m your shield… you’ll both be OK. All we need is a Mila statue… Genny, can you sense her?” Valbar asked.

“...The way I’m facing?” Genny asked. Valbar turned that direction, and looked down the corridor.

“Come on. We better not dawdle until you both become sick,” Valbar remarked. Sonya nodded, before setting Genny down and tearing off her right glove. She wrapped it around Genny’s mouth, and when she picked her back up, made sure her right arm was holding Genny’s legs while her still-gloved left hand had her back.

* * *

Palla, Catria and Est blinked, looking at the lance embedded in the ground in surprise. They knew this lance. They had had it used against them in Archanea. And to see it here, in Valentia… it was astounding.

“The Gradivus… so this is where it went…” Palla remarked.

“Am I expected to believe that this spear drifted the whole way here, got picked up by someone, and taken to this awful place?” Catria asked. Palla turned to Est, only to find her having already jumped onto the pedestal in which the Gradivus was embedded. Palla held out her hand in concern, only for the lance to come out of the stone with ease. Est turned, spinning the lance around before brandishing it forward.

“I am Est! Fear the might of my Gradivus, pried from the grasp of Valentia’s deepest dungeon!” Est proclaimed. Palla politely applauded, nervously laughing, while Catria looked over her shoulder.

“Est…” Catria remarked, pointing out a small gathering of witches. Est stepped forward, swinging around Gradivus in many wide circles, before tossing it at the first witch. The lance reappeared in her hands, and Est gave a massive grin. Her next attack was a sweeping strike that ploughed a second witch, only to hit Palla’s hands.

“Be more careful with that,” Palla suggested, before lobbing it into a witch. The nearest witch prepared a thunder spell, but Catria ran forward, pulled the Gradivus from the witch before it vanished, and swung up to cleave through the sorceress. Catria stabbed the last one, before throwing it back to Est.

“Never underestimate a Whitewing,” all three said in unison, before Est attached it to her back and the three set out of their little hidey-hole.

“...Seriously, be careful. We should probably return it to Nyna,” Palla chipped in.

“I’ll be fine, Palla. It comes back to us if we throw it, after all,” Est said, which didn’t quite assure Palla.

* * *

“Well well… something crawled into our grasp…” a sinister laugh echoed around the cavernous chamber. Python readied his bow, as a bonfire flared up, light illuminating the chamber before him and Forsyth. In front of that fire was the speaker, a man clad entirely in black, aflame with a crimson aura and astride a heavily armoured horse. Beside him was a woman in a refined ball gown, also glowing with that sinister aura as she twirled her staff.

“My my, it appears to be soldiers of the Deliverance,” the mounted man said. He sat back, and let out a booming laugh.

“I am Sir Forsyth, right hand to Sir Clive. You, Berkut, are no knight. You shall die at my hand!” Forsyth exclaimed.

“You claim to be worthy of challenging I? You are a fool, Forsyth. I want only Alm and Clair. Only they have the power to challenge me,” Berkut called.

“Ugh, people who go on and on about power are just the  _ worst _ …” Python sighed, drawing his bow. The arrow was let loose, but went redirected by Rinea.

“Prattling mortals. Oh well, you won’t be missed,” Rinea said, blasting him with a Seraphim. Berkut charged forward, only to be rammed by a horse from the side. Conrad was knocked off his own horse, Berkut being much more heavily armoured, but in the shock of the strike, Conrad could quickly clamber back on.

“Another odd fellow?” Berkut asked.

“I am Sir Conrad, proud defender of Lady Anthiese and the weak. En garde!” Conrad boomed, brandishing his lance. Berkut swept his own lance Kreimhild, and Conrad let out a low whistle.

“It’ll take more than that to rattle me, black knave!” Conrad called, thrusting forward with his lance, and then parrying Berkut’s.

“Sir Conrad! I’ll handle the witch!” Forsyth exclaimed triumphantly, running past Berkut to begin duelling the magician. Rinea grinned, and blasted him in the face.

* * *

Jesse brushed aside a batch of revenants, buying Tobin enough time to restring his bow before more monsters came. Tobin returned the favour by shooting a gang of mogalls in the eyes, and the two began their search for another person.

“Eeeeeyaugh!” a girlish scream echoed from close by. Jesse smirked, and darted forward. Tobin rolled his eyes, shot down a few gargoyles in the road ahead, and followed behind him before he went and got himself killed, idly noting that this was hardly different from him helping his best bud Gray. He barrelled into the next open area, to find Jesse over a tanned mage, quite definitely male.

“Didya have to go and trick me?” Jesse asked.

“Trick you? I hardly think I did anything of the sort,” the mage snarled, standing up and peering into the darkness.

“That girlish scream. I thought I was rushing to the aid of a damsel in distress,” Jesse explained.

“Sorry for disappointing you. Celica?” the mage said, calling into the tunnel. Silence came in response, followed by a Guardian monster clanking into the hall. The mage launched an Aura at it, disposing of it.

“...So it’s true. Boys, the name’s Boey. I’m one of Celica’s trusted bodyguards, but it seems Jedah got her working for him. I want to find Mae. You think you can help with that?” Boey asked.

“You want us to help find a pretty lady? Sure thing,” Jesse said cheerfully. Boey’s eyes narrowed.

“Mae is Celica’s girlfriend, so I don’t want any salacious remarks about either of them,” Boey growled.

“Ooh, can I make remarks about both at once?” Jesse asked.

“...I’d say I’m not in this willingly, but my best friend wouldn’t be much better. I’ll help you- and unlike this bozo, I might actually  _ contribute _ ,” Tobin added upon noticing Boey’s frustrated face.

“...I suppose I can’t be too picky,” Boey sighed.

* * *

Kliff held up his hand, trying out a piece of tracking magic he might have read in some tome or other. He knitted his brow, furious that it didn’t seem to detect the revenant before him, and casted Excalibur to delete both it and the tracker.

“You got any better ideas?” Kliff asked Luthier, eyeing the passageways into their space.

“None that I’m willing to share with you,” Luthier snarled.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I  _ am _ your sister’s crush,” Kliff pointed out.

“That’s  _ exactly why I’m angry! _ ” Luthier shouted. Kliff was quick to cast an Excalibur in the directions of the gargoyles that came running.

“Luthier, I don’t know what’s up with you and Delthea. Heck, I barely know what’s up with  _ me _ and Delthea. But I  _ do _ know that she resents not being allowed to make her own path,” Kliff told him.

“...What do you see in her anyway? She’s a selfish little b… witch who’s willing to throw away her talents…” Luthier asked.

“I see a scared thirteen year old girl. Like Faye, she looks to me for a source of comfort, presumably because Alm is taken and everyone else I’m friends with is loud, brash, or otherwise not a source of comfort. She’s a powerful mage, and with my tutelage, she’s learning how to harness that power into something great. In short, she likes what I do for her, and I’m not an awful enough human being to stop her from doing so,” Kliff explained. Luthier raised an eyebrow.

“She actually  _ studies _ in your lessons?” Luthier asked.

“Studies? She hates reading. I do physical lessons, teach her the movements,” Kliff said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“...You… you…” Luthier snarled.

“Hold, child of magic,” a different voice stopped Luthier this time. Luthier turned, and noticed the wise, wizened Nomah walk into the room.

“Master Nomah!” Luthier exclaimed, dropping on one knee.

“While you have been roping this boy into an argument about this Delthea girl, I have had to Sagittae no less than three bonewalkers and four gargoyles about to kill you both. Now apologise, to him as well,” Nomah said.

“But Master Nomah-” Luthier started.

“I don’t want to hear it. I had designs on how I wanted my apprentice to marry. Not only did she refuse the boy, but she seems to have refused boys in general. Don’t think you can control her any better- mine actually  _ liked _ me,” Nomah said.

“...Fine. Sorry, Master Nomah. And sorry to you, too,” Luthier said, a tad less toxically than his words implied.

“Lu, I Excalibured a Guardian. I’m OK with not sitting around and waiting for a more genuine apology. Now please, do something  _ helpful _ ,” Kliff told him, turning around and taking out two entombed.

* * *

Kamui led the way for Leon and Lukas, using his keen hearing and sixth sense of his surroundings to watch for encounters. Kamui held up his hand, and the pair stopped moving. The heavy footfalls of armour continued to echo around the hall, and Kamui extended his sense forward. He nodded, and unsheated his Brave Sword, holding it aloft. The light of a torch reflected off of it and towards the sounds, and they began approaching their position. Leon nocked an arrow, but Kamui held up his hand- Valbar and Sonya appeared in front of them.

“Valbar!” Leon exclaimed, sheathing his bow and running forward.

“Hold! Step back, Leon,” Valbar barked, and Leon stopped, looking towards Sonya… and Genny in his arms.

“What’s with the cloth?” Leon asked, gesturing to Genny’s mouth.

“A revenant gave her a cough. Probably an actual problem, but one we can’t fix,” Valbar said. Kamui nodded, and held out his hands, extending his sense through the walls. What he was looking for was sure to be detected with a fair distance…

“That looks like a Mila Statue to me,” Kamui remarked, turning to the wall on his left. Valbar looked at it.

“It’s a wall,” he suggested.

“On the other side of the wall… from the looks of it, there are two walls between here and there. As for the indirect route… hm… nope, haven’t figured that one out. Lukas, one moment?” Kamui said. Lukas stepped forward to beside Valbar, and Kamui, Leon and Sonya stepped back. Sonya, on an idea, set down Genny.

“Let’s take the direct route instead. Heave!” Kamui called. Both knights rammed their shields into the wall from a running start, and Sonya followed up with an Excalibur.


	22. Knight in Black

Berkut shoved his shield into Conrad, knocking him from his horse and to the ground. Rinea cast a spell to lift Forsyth from the ground and send him flying Conrad’s way. The flames of the bonfire flared up, and any minor scratches the two knights and Python’s arrows managed to make faded. Berkut chuckled, only to pause on the sound of a pegasus’s wing whoosh.

“...She’s here…” Berkut hissed. Clair’s pegasus, wearing a crown and with flames at her heels in spite of it being her old white one instead of her new black one, preceded the pair themselves. Alm, in his ornate Emperor’s armour and bearing the sword and axe of Rigel, if still on the runty side. And Clair herself, elegantly done in her falcoknight armour, flames at her fingertips reminding him that Clair had still taken Duma’s power.

“Albien. Clair. Welcome to your tomb,” Berkut said. His own horse was clad in plenty of armour, even over its face, while Rinea’s battle gown had straightened and flared, gold chains crossing across her front. They, too, had Duma’s power, but not as safely as the Emperor’s statue would allow them.

“Berkut… what has become of you? You may have slaughtered an unarmed old man, but otherwise, you had… ah, who am I kidding, you’re nowhere  _ near _ honourable enough for this to be surprising,” Alm said.

“Bold words from the man who must hide behind his wife even in a one on one duel to the death. Tell me, Albien, since you clearly wanted it so much… what do you intend to do with all of this power?” Berkut asked.

“Berkut, I don’t want to be Emperor. If she were still alive, I’d actually kind of like to have taken up Faye’s offer. But circumstance has driven me here, and I will not slack in my duties now that my father has bestowed them upon me. It will be a difficult road, Berkut. There may be bad blood between us, but considering what we face, we should-” Alm began to explain.

“Silence. A weak emperor supported by his people is still a weak emperor. You stole your title, and we intend to take it back,” Rinea said, brandishing her staff.

“Only we are strong enough, as both husband and wife, to have truly earned the titles of Emperor and Empress of Rigel. And so, we invoke the same thing Rudolf did. We challenge you, Albien and Clair. So there can be no deceit from either side,” Berkut boomed.

“Oh yeah? Too scared to duel alone?” Clair asked.

“You can’t be trusted, Clair. Let’s see how your precious Albien stands when he must rely on his own power,” Berkut needled.

“Come, Berkut. Let us finish what you started in Ram, and claim everything you ever wanted,” Rinea added. She swung up her staff, and cast her Entrap on Alm, yanking him to the other side of the charging Berkut. Clair, who was expecting to be the target of the spell, narrowly avoided Berkut’s charge. She slung a Fire spell, which Berkut parried with his demonic-looking lance.

“Kreimhild, dear. I almost want to say it’s better than that Geirskögul, but Geirskögul can only be wielded by Imperials,” Berkut taunted.

“You are embittered, Berkut,” Clair spat, switching to her javelins. She shot into the air, cursing the ceiling as she figured out how much height she had to work with. At the very least, she felt comfortable flying above where Berkut could reach her by pointing Kreimhild up and lunging. She tossed a trio of javelins, the first two striking either side so the third could wedge itself into Berkut’s chest. Berkut swept it aside, and the bonfire flared up, patching up the wound.

“No cheating, huh?” Clair asked.

“I said no deceit,” Berkut growled, as Clair turned to Alm. Alm was swinging Wolf Berg around at Rinea, to which she easily dodged with slight teleports. Clair growled, considering her options. Head-on, this was an uphill battle. Tag-teaming faced the issue of the other one… and they weren’t going to make the inverse error. The bonfire was going to get in the way quite a bit…

“Excalibur…” Conrad muttered, pointing at the fire. A wisp of a magic blast appeared, dispelling before it reached the bonfire. But it did give Clair an idea. She watched Conrad cast the spell again, paying keen attention to the hand movements. She copied the movement, and pointed at the bonfire. An Excalibur blew on it, flickering the flame. She nodded, and flew back down in Berkut’s range.

“Ready to face me like an Empress?” Berkut asked.

“Not quite.  _ You  _ ready to fight me like an Empre-Emperor?” Clair asked in turn. Berkut grinned, and charged forward. Clair focused, and casted a large Excalibur. Berkut ducked it.

“Thank you,” Clair said. Berkut turned, and saw the Excalibur expand and meet Conrad’s own spell, pressing against the bonfire. Berkut turned, and found Geirskögul lodged in his chest.

“...You still cheat?” Berkut asked.

“Says the person relying on a magic bonfire to heal off your wounds,” Clair said, eliciting a whistle from Python and a cheer from Forsyth.

“Feel put out?” Forsyth asked. Python groaned, and Clair turned to Rinea- only to find Berkut’s hand on her own throat.

“...If you thought the bonfire was cheating, what do you think of this?” Berkut asked. Clair looked at the chest wound, blood still falling onto the floor at a rapid rate. Berkut was losing colour in his skin, but he was hardly losing strength.

“...I think you need to be cremated,” Clair snarked, placing her own hands on his shoulders, and focusing on creating fire with them. The blaze caught hold, and Clair broke Berkut’s grip, flying away from him.

“...You… you will pay for your insolence,” Berkut growled, turning to where Alm and Rinea were duelling. Alm swung an off-balance stroke, managing to sink the Wolf Berg’s blade into a gap in Rinea’s chains, biting into her side. Rinea shot a Seraphim into Alm, and Alm took it again. He was gasping and heaving, though, at the end of his rope. Berkut began his charge, and Clair gasped. She dived down, holding her right arm out while holding her pegasus’s reins with her left. She narrowed her eyes, and grabbed Alm while swooping back up. Berkut leaped at them, the flames brushing against Rinea as he fell. Rinea swatted at the flames, managing only to spread them across her body. She dropped to the ground and began rolling around, dulling the flames while her own blood from the axe wound began to flow. Berkut held out a hand to help her up, only for his fire to catch her again.

“Berkut…” Rinea started.

“Rinea… I promised you an empire. I intend to make good on that promise,” Berkut growled. How he intended that when his chest wound was running out of blood to bleed  _ and _ he was on fire was anyone’s guess.

“Berkut… you don’t have to suffer on my account. It’s OK. I don’t need to be at the head of an empire to feel like your Empress. Just knowing you’d let your dying breath be fighting in my name is enough for me. Come, Berkut… let us find an empire elsewhere,” Rinea said. Berkut turned to Alm, thrown over the pegasus’s back in the lack of better purchase.

“Alm… I suppose this is where I tell you to do Rigel proud, hm? You may have made it this far piggybacking off the strength of others… I hope those others have what it takes to let you be a good Emperor. I’m not letting the boy who usurped my story spoil the ending. May legends speak of you with the pride your wife deserves…” Berkut said coolly, before taking Rinea’s hand and turning to the bonfire. Both jumped into it, flaring it back to life, and presumably finally turning their bodies to ash. Even with the power to extinguish the fire, Clair and Conrad weren’t particularly keen on checking.

“...Clair…” Alm panted, after Clair set him down.

“Alm, if it’s about what Berkut said, forget it. I know you’re great against infantry. You certainly did a fine job holding your own against Rinea, despite her magic. It’s just been issues fighting cavalry. You’ll be fine as an Emperor,” Clair told him.

“But I-” Alm began.

“Alm, I will teach you everything I know about ruling. Massena will teach us everything I  _ don’t  _ know. No Emperor is perfect, that’s the point of Massena. Don’t let Berkut’s final words get to you. He just wants the best for Rigel and thinks he’s it,” Clair assured him.

“Alm, Berkut was born and raised a commoner. You will be at least as good a ruler as he thought he would be. Now… might I ask we find our companions?” Conrad asked. Alm nodded, and he collected the Wolf Berg.

* * *

Kliff poked his head around a corner uncertainly, checking for monsters, before being rammed by something. He fell to the ground, a quick spell stopping his head from slamming into it, as whatever crashed into him fell on top of him. Kliff cast a Fire spell, the light of which illuminated Delthea’s concerned expression and similar Fire spell.

“...You’ve gotta be more careful in enemy territory…” Kliff idly remarked.

“Hello to you too, Kliff!” Delthea squealed, pulling Kliff up before giving him a very tight hug. Mathilda and Gray ran up behind her, and Gray pulled her back with a laugh before Kliff found himself choking.

“...Nice to see you’re still OK for now, Del,” Kliff said, still breathing heavily. Delthea beamed, and got to her feet, pulling him up.

“You are Luthier’s sister?” Nomah asked, slowly ambling on up to her. Delthea tilted her head thoughtfully.

“And who are you?” Delthea asked in return, one hand idly grasping for Kliff’s. Kliff took it, and Nomah let a small smile onto his face.

“I am Nomah, High Priest of the Mila Faithful. I wrote a few tomes of magic that Luthier studies. Luthier tells me you’re good with magic…” Nomah said. Delthea brought her hand up, and cast an Aura spell, deleting a bonewalker that had appeared behind Mathilda’s field of vision.

“...Astounding. You have great potential… don’t squander that,” Nomah said, nodding proudly.

“See, I’m not the only one telling you that much!” Luthier needled.

“Well,  _ excuse me _ if my opinion on ‘squandering my magic’ is different to yours! I don’t need to be writing new tomes. I don’t even have the patience to make it past a paragraph before I get bored,” Delthea spat. Kliff’s eyes widened.

“If you think Delthea’s potential is only reached once she’s made a discovery for the good of magic, I can handle that much. Let Delthea do the work and I’ll write the actual book. And you didn’t want me and Delthea together,” Kliff added. Delthea blinked, looking between the two boys.

“My brother… actually did the ‘overprotective brother’ thing? I’m almost flattered,” Delthea said.

“Don’t be. It was mostly jealousy,” Kliff snarked, rolling his eyes as he turned away to check on the monsters’ approach.

“Well,  _ I _ think you two are adorable together. Helps that you got prickly Kliff to care about something, Del!” Gray exclaimed.

“Only  _ I _ can call her Del!” Kliff yelled, blushing. Gray held up a hand, before turning to cut a mogall creeping behind him in two. Kliff and Delthea followed up with a pair of fireballs, burning up the halves before they reformed into mogalls.

“Let’s go,” Mathilda suggested.

* * *

Zeke jumped back, seeing a lance impale itself in the stone in front of him. It disappeared and reappeared in the hands of a pegasus knight, who prepared to throw it again before Tatiana called for her to stop. Zeke was left thinking about that lance… something about it rung familiar to him…

“So who are you?” Zeke asked, looking at the pegasus knight.

“I’m Est, the youngest and luckiest of the Whitewings of Macedon. And this is the Archanean Regalia Gradivus, apparently. I always thought it was washed away with Camus, but I guess I can buy it making its way here,” Est told him. Zeke looked at the lance- ‘Archanean Regalia Gradivus’.

The lance flashed as it lunged in and out of soldiers with ease. An entire batallion was wiped out, and he turned to face a knightly lord on a hill. He made to move for him, only for a pegasus knight to charge him, her own ornate lance flashing as it moved. Gradivus parried all of her strikes, and the pegasus knight moved in front of him, exposing her face.

“So what is it we’re doing on the side of Grust, Camus?” the pegasus knight asked sweetly, twirling her hair as she moved her lance to rest on her shoulder.

“I am a knight, Princess Talys. And I cannot turn my lance to destroy my country,” Camus responded. His voice was much like Zeke’s own… could it be…

“Really, Camus? You fought so hard to free Princess Nyna, did you not? Why not continue to fight by her side? Marth is a merciful man, Camus. Grust will not die to him,” Princess Talys said. Nyna… Tatiana told him that, when he arrived in Rigel, he was muttering that name.

“...I know why you want me to return to Nyna’s side, lovely Caeda. I’m afraid I must refuse. She is too young… too young for a traitor like me…” Camus said.

“Camus, look at the army I’ve gotten to turn and fight for our cause. The Scarlet Sword Navarre, the pirate Darros, the lovestruck Roger… I could go on. You are no less redeemable than they. If you fight for Prince Marth, I can promise you that your name will continue to represent honour. There is honour in turning on the wrong side. I will make sure that your needs are taken care of,” the princess, Caeda, told him, wide, puppy-like eyes staring right at him. Camus looked down, clenching his fist, clearly in thought. There was no way he’d turn down her offer… Caeda was right. That was why he helped Alm get to Rudolf- so he could help overthrow an unjust regime.

“...I must apologise, Princess… but I’m afraid I shall not,” Camus said. Caeda’s eyes narrowed, and her lance quickly returned to a ready-to-fight stance.

“Then, Sable Knight Camus of Grust… we duel to kill,” Caeda told him. Her lance shot forward, an intense flurry of precise blows. Camus could block several, but Gradivus must have been unfamiliar in his hands, and Caeda’s lance particularly powerful, because his vision gave way, as he fell from his horse…

Zeke gasped, looking up in front of him. Beside Est were two other pegasus knights, none of them Princess Caeda. But Est knew what Gradivus was.

“...Does the name ‘Sable Knight Camus of Grust’ mean anything to you?” Zeke asked. All three pegasus knights brought their hands to their mouths, looking between one another with shock on the girl on the left, confusion in Est and… was that  _ dread _ in the right-hand-side girl’s eyes?

“Camus… you’re still alive?” the left-hand-side girl asked. Zeke’s answer was forestalled when a witch’s fire blast struck the rock besides one of the pegasi.

“Apparently, I won’t be for long if we do not focus on the foe before us. But I would like to hear about this Camus fellow once we have made it to safety,” Zeke said, and all three pegasus knights nodded. Est held out Gradivus for him to take, but he shook his head. If he lost to Caeda with it, he didn’t expect it to serve him well enough today.

* * *

Valbar busted through the wall, looking around at the corridor. Kamui told him to follow it to the right, which led him to a sharp turn that came out into a comforting shrine. Valbar sighed in relief, and called for Sonya to bring in Genny. Sonya set her down in front of the statue, coughing herself as she pulled away the cloth on her face and sat beside her.

“Disease-ridden filth…” Valbar grunted, sitting a safe distance away.

“Say, what  _ is _ a Mila statue doing in Duma’s domain?” Leon asked. Valbar looked up, realising the folly.

“I don’t know the  _ why _ , but I do know the  _ what _ . Don’t worry, it’s safe,” a voice told them from behind the statue. Boey stepped out, smiling at the sight of Genny, but taking heed of her visibly sick state and staying his own distance. Tobin and Jesse followed, running around Genny to get to Lukas.

“What is it, then?” Valbar asked.

“A room that happens to take on the shape of a Mila Shrine- a circle with a stone in the centre. Mila’s power is here, causing it to  _ look _ the part. Of course, since Mila is presumably somewhere in these catacombs, it makes sense that she  _ can _ . The question I was trying to answer when you barged in is why Mila’s power  _ did _ do this,” Boey said, with a comforting hand to show he meant no offense.

“What clues do you have?” Lukas asked.

“Just the one. There’s a bloody handprint over on this side of the statue, with the shape of Celica’s brand in the middle. All I can say about it is it’s not fresh,” Boey remarked.

“I still say it’s not Celica. Looks like the blood is coming  _ from _ the Brand,” Jesse added.

“...What happened to Celica, Boey?” Genny asked.

“I don’t know… I want to find them. Both Celica and Mae. One of them called Mila here, and left this for us…” Boey started, his voice cracking. Leon’s eyes widened, as Boey started sobbing.

“Mae… I let her go after Celica…” Boey choked.

“There will be no blaming yourself for Mae’s stubbornness here. Everyone that knew her knows she’d have run off after Celica anyway. Our job is to find her corpse- er,  _ living _ corpse,” Leon stated. Boey looked down, making fire in his palms.

“I just hope she hasn’t done anything too reckless…” Boey muttered.

“She has. I just hope it hasn’t killed her,” Leon said. Boey looked up at him.

“...I’ll stop being honest now,” Leon said placatingly.

* * *

Delthea turned a corner and crashed, reeling back with her arm over her face. Gray caught her before she fell and Kliff started inspecting her face and front for major injuries.

“You foolish child…” Luthier started, shaking his head as he looked at Delthea.

“Er, Luthier… she’s not exactly to blame,” Mathilda remarked, standing at the wall Delthea crashed into. Or rather, the lack of such a wall. It was an ornate threshold, far enough into the hall for a stone inscription to fit on one side wall, but Mathilda’s hand was unable to press through further into it.

“Though I  _ am _ interested in how quickly you jumped to that conclusion,” Nomah pointed out.

“Well, she should know better than to run through strange thresholds,” Luthier snapped without a hint of irony. He strode forward, and cast some sort of spell at the threshold, muttering under his breath. Mathilda read the inscription.

“Royal Vault. For those recognised to be worthy of the Rigelian Throne only,” Mathilda read.

“What the heck is the entrance to the Rigelians’ Royal Vault doing down here?” Gray asked.

“Wait… we have a Royal Vault down here?” a familiar girl asked. Mathilda turned, and both girls ran forward, catching each other in their massive hug.

“Clair, thank goodness you’re safe… and you look so… so powerful…” Mathilda said, stepping back to admire Clair’s new aura.

“That’s not what the Rigelians were going for,” Clair snarked, turning to the Royal Vault’s threshold. Mathilda turned to Alm, puzzled.

“I  _ think _ she’s talking about the uniform that came with the promotion,” Alm suggested. Mathilda was only left more confused. Alm blinked, and realised the problem a short time after.

“Oh, right, you were dumped here  _ before _ that. Clair and I are now Empress and Emperor of Rigel,” Alm proclaimed.

“No you’re not!” Gray exclaimed instinctively.

“Yes I am!” Alm grunted, a faint sniff as he returned to looking at Clair.

“...OK. Hail, Emperor!” Gray yelled, turning back to Kliff and Delthea. Mathilda turned her head thoughtfully.

“So are you two engaged now?” Mathilda asked.

“That’s your question? ...And no,” Clair asked, turning from the threshold to shoot her a shocked look.

“I didn’t think ‘right after her best friend died and came back to life in mortal peril’ was a good time. Regardless, long story, but I think we don’t have a choice in the matter, and my proposing is just a formality. I just want to find a time when I can do it and still seem romantic,” Alm elaborated. Mathilda nodded, absolutely confused as to how that made sense.

“...From your stunned silence, I imagine we’re going to need more than one kettle of tea to talk this over,” Clair remarked, turning and attempting to lean on the barrier. Her elbow went through, and she regained her feet before tripping over.

“Alm?” Clair asked. Alm ran over, crossing under the threshold himself with the same ease.

“...Well, that proves your legitimacy to the Rigelian throne, however you got that,” Luthier pointed out. Alm stared down the hall, hearing someone call him at the far end. 

“...We should check this place out, Mathilda…” Alm stated. Clair nodded. She heard the call too.

“We’ll remain here. We should try to limit how separated we are,” Mathilda assured him, as the two marched on. Clair’s pegasus followed, able to pass the barrier fine enough.


	23. Divine No Longer

Alm and Clair strode confidently through the overly long passageway, defeating monsters with barely a thought for what kind they were, until at last they arrived at a room they could recognise as being important. The skeleton of a dragon rested in the room’s centre, pierced into her skull an ornate sword.

“...Alm…” Clair muttered, looking around the room. Alm stepped forward, looking at the sword.

“...I am the Emperor of Rigel… this should be rightfully mine… so why do I hesitate to draw it?” Alm asked.

“...You already have two good swords?” Clair asked, trying to lighten the tension.

“Fair point,” Alm admitted, tossing Amatsu towards her and reaching for the blade. The whoosh of a different sword in front of him sounded, and Alm jumped backwards, just in time to dodge the downwards strike of the Ladyblade. Celica stood up straight, and swung the blade again threateningly.

“Celica… so it’s true. You’re gone…” Alm said, stepping back so that he could grab Clair’s hand.

“Exactly, Albien. One of the Brand bearers answers to me. I’m thinking the prophecy’s new age will be an age basking in the glorious power of Duma, don’t you?” a warlock behind her chuckled, stepping out from the shadows.

“So you’re Jedah…” Alm remarked.

“This business of relying on gods and… so forth all seems  _ quite _ absurd to me. The creepy man will excuse himself now!” Clair cried, levelling Geirskögul.

“And if it isn’t the  _ Empress _ of Rigel? My, you are as beautiful as the bards say… shame you ride a pegasus. If you hadn’t, maybe Duma’s might may already be restored, because your precious Alm wouldn’t…” Jedah taunted, before finding Geirskögul in his face. Clair glared at him, point blank.

“Alm is a better man than you could even imagine. Your reign of terror is doomed to end today, here and now!” Clair exclaimed, before driving the point in. A light shone over Jedah’s face, and Clair stumbled, the lance phasing through him as she dropped to the ground. Jedah grabbed her hair, tugging her back to her feet.

“Trust me, Empress, you will continue to serve a purpose to us in our new empire… but for now, I reckon it’s time we watched your love and hope die,” Jedah told her, spinning her around and pinning her to his chest, holding her head forward. Alm had the Sword of Royalty drawn and was clashing blades with Celica, keeping on the offensive while never  _ quite _ aiming for decisive. She watched Celica’s sword strokes… and noticed her parries almost had that quality too.

“Alm… p-please… you have to s-stop me before I k-kill you!” Celica’s voice echoed. She swung her sword heavily, and Alm had to roll to one side to avoid taking the hit.

“It can’t… there has to be another way!” Alm cried.

“No, no no, it’s going to end with one of you killing the other. Could you please do it soon? My arms are getting tired holding on to your wife like this,” Jedah said.

“You could, I dunno, let her go,” Alm suggested, backing away as Celica started her own relentless assault.

“Hm… no,” was Jedah’s only reply. Alm grunted, feeling Celica’s Ladyblade snap a strap on his armour.

_ Bearer of Duma’s Brand! Grasp Falchion now in your hand!  _ Alm heard in his ears. He turned to Clair, who was still in complete terror at the unfolding scene. Celica swung her blade down, and he rolled closer to Falchion. He had to risk it… he touched the pommel, and the sword began to glow.

“...No… Mila… this…” Jedah began, his grip slackening. Clair elbowed him in the face, nullified by Duma’s spell as it was, but still pushing away as Jedah ran from the bright light. Alm levelled Falchion, watching Celica run towards him. He held the blade out, and stepped forward.

_ SSSSHRING! _

Silence fell. You could barely hear their breathing. The Ladyblade passed in between Alm’s side and arm harmlessly. The blade of Falchion poked out from Celica’s cape. And on all three faces was the cross of fear and horror at that second part.

“CELICA!” Alm called, stepping back and allowing her to sink to her knees. Her blood began to drop to the stone below, and Clair nervously stepped closer.

“...Lady Celica?” Clair asked, tapping Celica lightly on the shoulder. She tried slightly more vigourously, succeeding only in making Celica’s head loll backwards.

“Gods, no… what… what have I done…?” Alm asked.

“With any luck, all you could,” that same voice called. But this time, Clair, too, turned to search for it. Both pairs of eyes settled on the dragon skeleton, which was glowing green around the point Falchion had rested. A pair of heeled feet appeared over it.

“Er, humans? My eyes are up here now,” the woman said. Alm and Clair’s eyes ran right up to the face of Mila.

“Mila?” Alm asked.

“Precisely, Albien. I am what your kind has called the Earth Mother. Goddess of Zofia. A title I no longer deserve…” Mila said. Alm opened his mouth to interject, trying to find something that Mila did right.

“Albien, the blade I bestowed upon you is the Falchion, the slayer of dragonkind. Dragons are cursed to descend into a feral madness, and now, Duma and I have reached that point. As a loving sister, the woman who saved Duma from being executed for his ideals, the girl who followed him into exile… I sealed Falchion in my grasp, even as Duma’s madness allowed Jedah’s influence to spread across Rigel. Women have been sacrificed, men and children brutally slaughtered, all in the name of my brother, who would never have approved, but is now too mad to censure anyone. Albien, you must take this blade and fell Duma, and free him from Jedah’s tyranny,” Mila explained.

“...And what of your madness?” Clair asked.

“It had approached me when I was taken to Rigel. With Falchion piercing my head for weeks, I have reached the final stage of a dragon’s life… when death is all but imminent, their sanity returns. It… it’s truly awful. Albien, child of Rigel. Clair, child of Zofia. You have stood against adversity and triumphed over it. That was what Duma wanted. But what he gave the people of Rigel wasn’t that. In my efforts in trying to prove him wrong, I made the opposite mistake. Zofians did not suffer at all. There are no lessons to be learned, no triumphs to be had, in either society,” Mila continued.

“...I understand. As Emperor of Rigel, I shall do my best for the people of my country. As for Zofia…” Alm started, before turning to Celica, who was still slumped to the ground, Falchion through her body.

“Take Falchion out,” Mila suggested. Clair grabbed Celica from behind, allowing Alm to gently remove the blade. The blood began flowing, but Mila waved her hands, allowing the hole in her chest to close.

“That is all I can do, sadly. For her to walk amongst humankind, and return to her loving mage friend, she requires her soul, which is currently in the hands of Duma. Duma knows her soul is too valuable to use as food, and thus hasn’t drawn from its power. But he cannot hold out forever. Necromancy is a tricky subject I have never dabbled with. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I require the last of my godly power to sustain the enchantment I gave to that mage friend. I almost pity poor Jedah,” Mila stated, before her shape faded into dust. Alm knelt down, and scooped up Celica. Mila had restored her body so that it looked like she was merely sleeping…

“Come on. We’ve got to find Duma before anything important to Celica is consumed,” Clair reminded him, helping him throw her across Clair’s pegasus.

* * *

Jedah entered a wider hallway of the catacombs, only to find a pink wall erupting behind him. Another one came up before him, sealing him in this room.

“Impossible… that’s my job!” Jedah cried. A figure came from a pillar in the room’s corner. The girl that accompanied Celica to the tower stood before him- somewhat unintimidating for her lack of height on him, but a furious expression and a radiation of magic gave Jedah pause.

“...You’re gonna pay for what you did to Celica, buddy. You’re gonna pay hard!” Mae cried, before spinning. She traced a symbol in flame before her, before presenting her palms. Her right palm, with the symbol of Mila’s Brand roughly carved into it, shone, and a storm of flames came rushing down on him, piercing his blessing. Jedah reflected on the past, trying to count where his protection had come down.

“How do you expect to defeat me, not knowing my weakness?” Jedah asked. Mae furiously casted her magic. Aura. Seraphim. Sagittae. Fire. Only the Fire spell struck true. Mae’s eyebrow raised, and she casted another Fire. Then came a Thunder. Excalibur. Aura- which pierced. Mae’s eyebrow raised.

“I think I know what it is…” Mae chuckled, reaching into her cloak, and pulling out Mila’s Turnwheel. Jedah gasped, as she spun the front around. Jedah felt less pummelled, but Mae was much more ready to go as well.

“And even if I’m wrong, I’ve got all the time in the world to try and try again,” Mae finished. She drew the Beloved Zofia, and charged in, delivering three precise, but quick, slashes, before following up with another Aura. Jedah panicked, backing away as he prepared a Death spell. He blasted Mae with the full force of his magic, dropping her to her knees. But with a turn of the Turnwheel, she had gone back to before he had casted. Jedah casted again, and Mae easily dodged the spell this time, beginning another carefully counted assault.

“...I yield, I yield! Please, I don’t want to die! I don’t wanna die!” Jedah cried, hiding his head in his arms and rolling over.

“Guess what? Neither did Celica. Should have thought of that before you had her turned into a monster. Now, I believe the  _ next _ hit does damage?” Mae asked.

“...Yes,” Jedah admitted. Not like hiding it would stop her from rewinding time if she was wrong. The Beloved Zofia fell on his neck, severing his head from his body.

“You… defeating me will not save your friend!” Jedah exclaimed, feeling the life drain from his top half. Mae responded to his decapitated head talking by giving it a solid kick. The body decomposed into dust, and Mae felt a little woozy. She staggered about, trying  _ not _ to fall where Jedah had.

“Mae!” someone screamed. She spun around, trying to find the speaker, before falling into a state of exhausted rest. The last thing she felt was arms under her, stopping her crashing into the stone.

* * *

“Put your back into it, Boey!” Tobin called encouragingly. Boey grunted, shuffling his feet ever so slightly to try and keep himself from falling to the ground with Mae.

“Come on, you get to sweep the girl of your dreams off her feet and you  _ stuff it up _ ? Not while I’m watching!” Jesse added.

“Jesse, I think I had moved on from Mae and started crushing on Linde before I even  _ met _ you,” Boey snarked.

“Sounds right. I didn’t know the two of you had romantic history,” Lukas idly remarked.

“IS SOMEONE GOING TO HELP ME?” Boey asked, before his feet finally gave way and he landed on his rear, Mae on his lap. He quickly threw his hand over behind Mae’s head to stop it landing on the stone.

“No thanks, I’m good,” Jesse said. A horse’s footfalls came from the other end, and Zeke, Tatiana, Silque and the Whitewings came in. Palla sighed, and helped Mae onto her pegasus, while Est pulled up Boey.

“What happened here?” Zeke asked.

“From what I caught, Mae took out Jedah. But that still doesn’t solve our being trapped thing. Let’s go back and regroup,” Boey suggested.

“Regroup where?” Catria asked.

“A rock that has been enchanted to look like a Mila statue. Our group decided to use it as a base. Although, fair warning, that’s because Genny caught a disease or something out of a monster,” Kamui said.

“Not a problem,” Tatiana said, brandishing her staff.

* * *

The party returned to the Mila statue, only to find it had returned to its rock shape. Genny and Sonya were taking measured breaths, Valbar looking at both with concern from a safe distance. Tatiana gasped, and dragged Silque along to start hurriedly casting healing spells, trying to pull the disease right from the body.

“This isn’t turning out well…” Boey muttered, going around to sit facing the opposite entrance to the chamber. Palla slipped Mae onto his lap, and sat down beside him.

“Hey, Palla…” Boey said, idly nursing the unconscious girl in his lap.

“...Linde is an amazing girl, Boey. She’s very delicate when she’s working on her healing, but in battle, she’s completely fierce. Probably because Gharnef killed her father. She has this… well, you know she’s pretty, but she’s such a good listener, too…” Palla let out.

“Right… but am I ever going to see her?” Boey asked, looking to the ceiling.

“Yes. Yes you are, Boey. And when you do, you’re not going to want to leave her. Just makes me wonder about Camus…” Palla remarked.

“Cawho?” Boey asked.

“Ca _ mus _ , Boey. He’s a valiant knight from Archanea who was alleged to have died in the war. But there he is, with a life and a girlfriend here in Valentia. Nyna’s not going to take this well…” Palla said, a glare of sorts driving into Zeke’s back.

“...And Nyna is?” Boey asked.

“The princess-turned-ruler of a country called Archanea… not to be confused with the continent. Linde is her retainer now, so you’re going to have to deal with the backlash from this one way or another. I can only hope Hardin’s going to take any part of this well… but he’s a noble knight, that’ll probably be fine. Since Camus’s moved on, it’ll probably be all right,” Palla said, seeming to be reassuring herself as much as him.

“...Sounds like I don’t get a break. Well, if it’s for the greater good of Archanea, I’m down. Here’s just hoping I can even try…” Boey muttered, looking up at the ceiling. He was distracted by the arrival of more allies. Conrad and Mathilda led the way for a procession of people Boey recognised from Alm’s army and his own. Alm and Clair came in the middle of the pack, and in Alm’s arms was none other than

“CELICA!” Boey cried out. Alm looked around, and set her down over in a corner over from Genny, allowing Boey, with Palla’s help, to set Mae down beside her and inspect Celica herself. The hole in her cape was the only clue that anything had happened beyond her falling asleep.

“...Is she all right now?” Boey asked.

“According to Mila, she’s not dead. But if we don’t defeat Duma before he uses up the energy from Celica’s soul, she might as well be,” Alm stated. Boey looked at Mae beside her.

“...Better than having her attacking everyone. But you’d better find Duma. Do you even know where to start?” Boey asked.

_...Come to me… _

“...Divine Duma, you have lived long enough. It is time to leave a world of hope and possibility to the next generation,” Nomah proclaimed. On the wall on Celica’s side was traced a door, a massive door with many intricate patterns etched into it. In place of doorknobs were two slots, circles with an odd shape underneath.

_ Enter, courageous children… _

Alm stepped forward, and pressed his hands against the door. It didn’t budge- obviously, the grooves had to be filled.

“...It can’t be…” Boey muttered, pulling out Mila’s Turnwheel and sliding it into place on the left door.

“Alm, do you still have yours?” Boey asked. Alm checked his pouch, and found it lying at the bottom, giving it a bit of a dust before handing it to Boey.

“...Wait, you never touched this?” Boey asked.

“Well, I did. It gave me this weird vision… what’s it even supposed to be for, anyway?” Alm asked.

“It lets you turn back time,” Boey told him simply, before slotting it in the right door. The Turnwheels shone, and the doors dragged across the stone as they folded aside. Only blackness stood before them.

“I’m staying here with the girls, Alm. It’s my duty to protect them, and I want to actually live up to that before I leave them to their honeymoon so I can go have mine,” Boey told him, before moving back to sit beside them.

“So who  _ is _ with me?” Alm asked.

“Us, of course,” Gray proclaimed.

“Even without gods, I have my friends. With them, I can survive anything!” Tobin muttered.

“I’m coming with you! Who needs gods when you’re as strong as me!” Delthea chipped in, jumping on Kliff’s back.

“A battle between god and mortal? Sounds exhilarating to me,” Lukas dryly observed. Forsyth and Python raised their weapons behind him, Python rolling his eyes.

“You’re going to need somebody sensing your back… you can count on me,” Kamui claimed, brandishing the Brave Sword.

“Against my better judgement, I’m going to follow along as well,” Leon chipped in, eyeing Valbar and Sonya with Genny.

“A great power stands one mistake away from utter tragedy. I’ve seen this unfold before, and I refuse to stand aside and watch it happen again!” Palla proclaimed.

“This is our world, and we’ll be the ones to shape it. Archanea and Valentia  _ both _ !” Est added.

“Suppose I’d better join the fun…” Jesse mumbled, slipping in with Kamui.

“Alm… what will happen once we defeat Duma?” Mathilda asked.

“We shall rule without gods. Even if I have to take up a plough and help the inexperienced Rigelians and the coddled Zofians alike, I  _ will _ make this work. We cannot survive with our dependency through my lifetime, let alone forever,” Alm suggested. Mathilda nodded, smiling.

“I’d take a proud death as my own woman over a life of kneeling to a mad god any day of the week too,” Mathilda stated.

“And so will we,” Silque and Tatiana chipped in.

“Emperor Rudolf… your dreams shall be realised in our hands!” Zeke proclaimed.

“Consider this an act of mercy, Duma. A great god is deserving of a proud and glorious end!” Conrad added.

“I’m with you every step of the way, Alm. For now and for ever,” Clair finished.

“...Then we must proceed,” Alm stated, leading the way in.

* * *

Duma roared as Alm approached, telling his men to fan out around the arena. Duma sat in the middle of a marshy-looking body of water, the unpleasant grime probably being a product of Duma’s bathing as much as it was the cave. Duma was not looking very divine- his body was coated in a green substance that was not likely moss, but it was probably close enough. His wings were skeletal bone structures, and patches of skin were peeling off. His head seemed much like Mila’s, but with hollowed out sockets in place of eyes… and one  _ big _ eye in the top of his head.

“Duma… what has happened to you?” Alm asked.

_ These wounds mean nothing. Only power holds meaning. Only strength holds sway. Call to me… thirst for me… thirst for POWER!  _ Duma’s voice echoed around the room. Everyone shivered, looking around in fear for their nearest companion.

“Duma… I will save you,” Alm called. Duma roared, and a bunch of mogalls dropped from the ceiling and rose from the marshes.

“All right, plan of attack. Only Falchion can slay him, so I’ve gotta focus on the big guy. Clair, cover my back. Everyone else, chip where you can, but distract the mogalls!” Alm boomed. He charged into the marsh, only to find the thick, reed filled waters slowing his ferocious charge to a mildly comical wade.

“Hold on,” Clair called, before drawing Amatsu, and cleaving down. An Amatsu-shaped bolt soared down and struck Duma’s hide, eliciting a screech of terror that jostled a few loose chips of brick down from the ceiling. Clair smugly grinned, before Duma retaliated with a laser emitting from his forehead eye, sweeping the sky above in a move that Clair had to take a sharp turn with both hands on the reins to avoid. She fired another Amatsu, and Duma stomped the ground. A series of tentacles appeared where Duma’s claw landed, and travelled across the marsh to under Clair’s position. They shot up above, and Clair’s pegasus moved swiftly out of the way. Clair shot a blast of fire at the tangle, shooting away before it could become apparent it had no effect- and sadly, it didn’t. Duma looked up at her, watching her plot her next move.

“Big sisters get it done!”

“This is a fight I can’t lose!”

“Nowhere to run!”

The three Whitewings dived in, each landing a shot with one of their own lances, before Clair followed up with her own charge using Geirskögul. Duma let out an ear-curdling roar, only to notice Alm had pierced his hide with Falchion.

_ You don’t think that blade can defeat me so easily, do you? _ Duma asked. Alm breathed in.

“Easily, perhaps not. But this is the blade that will be your demise. And I’m afraid if you kill me, it might fall into the marsh…” Alm observed.

_ I… I fear death… this is no… threat…  _ Duma’s voice echoed.

“Don’t sound confident to me. I know you haven’t eaten Celica’s soul yet. You’re not truly mad,” Alm told him, readying the Falchion.

_...Albien… bearer of my Brand… I can’t hold on much longer. If I am not defeated soon… I will lose all my inhibitions and will consume the soul of the one you call Celica. Hurry!  _ Duma muttered, slinging forward another blast from his eyeball. Alm ducked, charging in to slash at his chest.

“Kliff!” Delthea called. In unison, they tossed their spells- she Aura, and he Excalibur. Duma turned to face them, and the three archers added a volley of arrows, eight of them piercing the god’s hide. Alm raised his blade, and the light appeared from it once more.

“It’s over, Duma… neither of us has to suffer a minute longer,” Alm proclaimed, jumping on the hole the pegasi had created. Duma roared, turning, as Alm ran up Duma’s spine and stabbed Falchion directly into his eye. Duma roared, thrashing his head around and tossing Alm aside, to land on Clair’s pegasus. Duma slammed into the marsh, sending a giant wave to splash across the party, and ceased movement. Clair set Alm down beside the skull, to retrieve Falchion. As he did so, a hulking brute of a man came to stand atop Duma’s corpse- Alm knew this was Duma. Not just because it was exactly how Mila appeared… something in his birthright told him so in his mind.

“You have done well, Albien. With more work, you will prove yourself a fine Emperor of Rigel, and perhaps Zofia, if that is how the winds of change blow,” Duma remarked.

“...You intend for me to conquer Zofia?” Alm asked. A similar gasp sounded from most of the sideline combatants.

“Not conquer. Unite. Mila was right when she said we both were in the wrong. The people of Zofia are too coddled to learn, while the people of Rigel are too hardstruck to develop. You must unite them under a common banner… you and Celica both,” Duma told him.

“You’ll…” Alm began to ask.

“Restore Celica? Of course. What it was that Rigel lacked was a sense of reward for overcoming hardship. The absolute strongest claimed the title of Emperor. Those who lived in the villages saw nothing but a rising death toll for them and their loved ones. It’s a miracle they are still populated. Anyway, Celica, I can restore. The others that died, however, I lack the power to recover their souls, let alone ensure their bodies are ready to accept them,” Duma stated. He spread his hands, and a pure white orb shot forth, overhead and to the chamber where Celica’s body rested.

“Now go, Albien. Valentia’s future is in your hands. Craft not a kingdom like what Mila and myself made. Make it your own, a land where both ideals can be satisfied. Naga, I return to your lands a wiser dragon...” Duma stated, disappearing. Alm nodded. It was over.

* * *

Celica blinked, looking around as she uncertainly contemplated rising. She felt chilled in this drafty cave, and her relative lack of sleeves wasn’t helping. She turned to the side, and noticed Mae sleeping beside her. She smiled softly, and on a whim, leant over and pulled her onto her lap, stroking her hair in one hand as she ran her other one down her loyal mage’s body.

“Mae… I’m sorry I… you were… oh, heck with it. I should never have considered sacrificing myself. I mean… just look at yourself. Your… your scar… it wasn’t worth protecting the world for your life of unhappiness… Mae, please just let us live together in peace. Just you and me,” Celica cried softly, before pulling her hand up to Mae’s face.

“Cel…” Mae muttered. Her head began swinging slightly, as Mae tried to look up at her through half-open eyes.

“Cel… I know. Thank you…” Mae muttered. Celica let out a sigh of relief, and pulled Mae in close for a tight hug. As she loosened, Mae dived in to add a comforting kiss to the moment, before eventually flopping back down, still awake, but still exhausted.

“...You fine to stand, Cel?” Boey asked. She nodded, and Boey took Mae so she could stagger up.

“...OK, maybe I’m gonna need to be carried out of here,” Celica chuckled, before falling onto Boey. Delthea ran in to prop them up, as Clair and Mathilda dismounted to extricate themselves from one another. Palla and Est brought their pegasi around, and helped Celica and Mae onto each mount.

“Come on. Let’s go home,” Alm suggested.


	24. Valentia United

Massena watched Alm and Clair leave Duma Temple with a polite, if slightly mournful, nod between each, and they stood back to count each person who left. Massena recognised very few- Zeke and Tatiana, mostly, but he was not unfamiliar with Celica. When the last of the survivors- a young cleric and an older mage with cloth over their mouths that everyone gave a good berth- left, Alm and Clair closed the Temple doors, and they slowly disappeared.

“What about the men?” Massena asked.

“My apologies to their families… they didn’t make it,” Alm sighed. Massena bowed his head.

“Suppose it couldn’t be helped. They will be missed, but your goal seems to have been achieved. I imagine it would comfort them greatly to know their deaths were not in vain,” Massena noted. 

“Oh, and while we were down there, we saw the deaths of both Mila and Duma. That’s… probably why the temple door sealed,” Clair alerted him.

“...Noted. That’s not going to be a big deal, is it?” Massena asked.

“It’s going to be a huge change for Zofia and Rigel both. Mila’s blessing produced a great bounty for the people of Zofia, while Duma was presumably responsible for the monster attacks that were meant to toughen them up. But, with proper guidance, we should be able to face that problem head on. Especially since Alm happens to have a background in farming,” Clair pointed out.

“...You’re an ambitious Empress. It will be an honour to serve,” Massena said, getting on one knee to bow.

“Let us just hope that the people will be swayed. Zofia and Rigel must be united into one kingdom. That’s the part I’m worried about,” Alm said.

“...We have work to do, it seems. But for now, you’re all covered in muck and probably tired, too. I’ll go see what I can do about some nice baths,” Massena stated, getting to his feet and starting his climb.

“Oh, and Massena? Are there doctors here? The two girls at the back caught a disease from a monster and we want to make  _ sure _ it’s gone,” Boey called.

“Yep. I’ll go find one,” Massena called back, not pausing his departure.

* * *

Gray, Tobin and Kliff sat down beside one another after their wash, Gray and Tobin laughing as they discussed their various escapades. Kliff smiled as they jabbered on, wondering how they would take the news he had. His mind also wandered to Faye- wondering, as all intellectuals did,  _ what if _ . The young mage Delthea was a pleasure to teach, and he even learned from her on occasion. Kliff wondered, had Faye survived, if he would have taken and given those kinds of opportunities.

“Hey Kliff! What about you?” Gray asked.

“Hm?” Kliff mumbled, looking up.

“What are you gonna be up to? I know Delthea’s been real into you, but you’re going to stick around for us, right?” Tobin asked. Kliff chuckled.

“Sticking around with Alm… er, Emperor Alm or whatever you call him now he has a title, I don’t see it happening. I’d personally prefer something more relaxing. Depends on what Del’s after, too. Might stay, probably not,” Kliff suggested.

“...You’re  _ actually thinking about leaving _ ?” Tobin asked.

“Whipped by a ten year old,” Gray chuckled.

“Thirteen, and at least I  _ have _ a girlfriend,” Kliff told Gray, to shut him up. “And sorry, Tobin. It was fun when we were kids, but as adults, I just really don’t think my quiet personality is going to mesh with you two. I just don’t want to be obligated to stick around.”

“Fair,” Tobin stated, nodding in agreement.

“I’m gonna miss you, Kliff. I promise, even if you were just studying next to us, you really  _ did _ feel like part of the group,” Gray told him.

“I know. So did I. But now I have a friend who I have common ground with,” Kliff suggested. Gray beamed.

“It’s been fun. Good luck,” Gray said, holding out a hand.

“Same to you,” Kliff said, shaking it politely.

* * *

Clair smiled sadly, watching Mathilda set everything up in the saddlebags for her return to the Zofian territory. She would have to stay in Rigel while the wedding was planned, but Mathilda and the remains of the Deliverance would be breaking the news of the war’s aftermath to the Zofian populace… and Mathilda might have to act as a local ruler while everything was discussed. Luckily, Desaix’s coup meant that very few nobles still had seats, but the people, in turn, posed another obstacle.

“Well… it’s time for me to go, Clair,” Mathilda stated.

“I’m going to miss you…” Clair told her, blushing in spite of herself. Mathilda chuckled, giving her a hug.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before long. I’m your bridesmaid, remember? No idea why they still call it that,” Mathilda pointed out.

“I think they  _ do _ use ‘matron of honour’ in this case. Not so sure how often the bridesmaid has been significantly older than the bride, though,” Clair suggested.

“...Eh. You probably know more about weddings than me,” Mathilda chuckled.

“Said the married woman. Though… I’m fairly sure you’re right,” Clair sighed.

“Well, I hope you can make it without me. I’ll try to get back early enough I can still pick out your dress or whatever, but no guarantees. You know how stuffy traditionalists get,” Mathilda assured her.

“You are literally asking if they’ll politely accept becoming one kingdom with their sworn enemy. I’m fairly sure  _ I’d _ be balking,” Clair reminded her.

“Gotta try, though. True that might be, it’s also impolite to assume they’ll say no and try to pry it away through force first,” Mathilda said. She hopped aboard her horse, and Clair waved her goodbye. Before they left, though, she was surprised to see Forsyth give her a decidedly formal goodbye, complete with deep kneel and kissing her forehand. She was less surprised to see Python not follow his example, and content with Lukas limiting himself from a bow from where he stood.

“Your loveliness was a great comfort to us during our most trying chapter. I’ll be missing you too, Your Majesty,” Forsyth said proudly.

“...Thank you, Forsyth,” Clair told him, unsure as to how to respond correctly.

* * *

“...And that’s how we all thought you had died,” Palla finished her explanation. Zeke had listened to the legend of Camus as Palla had known it second-hand from Nyna and the war itself, carefully considering the man he had apparently once been.

“Of course, I would love to visit Archanea. But alas… if Nyna believes I am dead, I do not believe showing up just to tell her I have a girlfriend will provide much in the way of healthy closure,” Zeke pointed out.

“But wouldn’t it be romantic?” Est asked. Tatiana and Zeke blinked.

“...That’s not the goal,” Tatiana pointed out.

“Right, right,” Est stated, going back to eyeing her ring.

“...Regardless, I won’t be coming to Archanea on your trip. I need to attend the imperial wedding, after all. I’ll have time to consider whether I could or even should. Honestly, it’s not just for Nyna’s sake I consider this- I need my own closure on my past life so I can live as Zeke, free from hesitancy,” Zeke stated.

“So you’re  _ definitely _ still using Zeke, then?” Tatiana asked.

“Of course. I’m not going to associate myself with that overly loyal cow Camus,” Zeke said.

“Well then, we’ll see you in Archanea. I’d write you how it’s going, but I don’t think it’d get to you in time for you to act on it,” Palla said, getting to her feet. Zeke leaned back in his chair, pondering how he  _ would _ approach his return to Archanea. Maybe he’d get a mask like Conrad’s. And use it for its intended purpose.

* * *

“You’re starting your own religion?” Boey asked, in utter confusion.

“Not  _ our own _ religion. It’ll be this sort of… mish-mash of Mila and Duma’s teachings, just with a different goal now that they’re both dead and we’re supposed to be teaching people to live without them,” Celica stated.

“And this time, it’ll teach morals like no person is good or bad because of their station, good things come to those who work at them, and two girls are totally OK to marry!” Mae added, laughing.

“And there’s absolutely no personal bias in that last one,” Boey chuckled in turn, quietly thankful that Mae thought of his own childhood issue- though he idly wondered if Nomah would just make Mae and Genny’s lives worse if he considered the possibility of Celica falling for them instead of his choice in Alm.

“Nope, not a jot. None whatsoever,” Mae snarked.

“Well, I mean… how often is it you get to start a religion? Granted, we’ve got to get that follower thing sorted, but considering the current choices are… well, literally dead, I’m hoping we can make it over that hump,” Celica said.

“We’ll be helping it along, of course,” Nomah said.

“And a cute girl as the head priestess is going to make it  _ very  _ appealing,” Conrad added, to Celica’s mild embarrassment.

“Well… if I get back from Archanea, I’ll have to figure out a way I can help with that, I guess,” Boey sighed.

“ _ If _ you get back from Archanea?” Celica asked.

“I’m not going to force Linde to give up her life in Archanea so I can come back to Valentia. If she wants to stay, I’ll stay. If she wants to leave Archanea behind, I’ll come back with her. If she doesn’t mind either way, we’re  _ probably _ coming back. Can’t imagine Archanea being so great I wouldn’t want to leave,” Boey said.

“Well, don’t hurry back  _ too _ quickly…” Mae giggled, before kissing Celica’s cheek.

“...Yep. Definitely no bias,” Boey sighed.

* * *

Valbar sat down beside Genny, looking at her with some concern. Sonya nodded with a smile, and Valbar decided to give her hair a few strokes.

“You two feeling better?” Valbar asked.

“We’re not contagious. Still a little icky, but we’re ‘fine’,” Sonya assured him. Valbar smiled, looking at Genny proudly.

“Nice one, kiddo. So you’re gonna write?” Valbar asked.

“Between Barth and this, I suppose I’m going to be the best damsel-in-distress writer from the damsel’s point of view, huh?” Genny pointed out.

“Yeah, that’s definitely a silver lining. You’re going to be a great writer,” Valbar told her. Genny nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“...You’re not discouraged, are you?” Valbar asked.

“Hm? No, I’m just wondering what will be most appealing. What makes you  _ want _ to read a damsel-in-distress story. And most importantly, what kind of story I’d want to tell,” Genny stated.

“Ah. I’d suppose you’d know a lot more about that than I do,” Valbar remarked.

“...I’d honestly be down for a more daring approach. Have your heroine bust out herself,” Sonya suggested. Genny nodded, and grabbed her writing stuff, beginning to frantically write, cross out, and draw planning lines.

“Well, she clearly has an idea,” Valbar chuckled.

“I’m thinking of doing something like one person escaping, but sticking around to try their best at getting their less capable friend out too. Sort of like Mae and Celica,” Genny told them.

“The witty banter you can get between Mae and a bandit could probably sell a book on its own, and the back and forth as Mae gets herself back into danger to try and take the worst of it from Celica could stretch out the plot,” Sonya mused.

“...And then your old pal Valbar comes  _ smashing _ in!” Valbar added. Sonya blinked.

“If the story just  _ ends _ because of something the heroine couldn’t even see coming, that bores the reader. Mae’s got to win on her own power,” Sonya argued.

“...But that’s how it happened,” Valbar pouted.

* * *

**Daring Knight Gray:** Gray was appointed as Alm’s right hand man, and helped to fight bandits and lingering monsters as they appeared throughout the realm. He eventually married and teamed up with a daring pegasus knight, and teased Alm about the parallels.

**Cautious Knight Tobin:** Tobin, as Alm’s left hand, became a voice of reason, helping to mediate squabbles between villagers before swords were drawn. His skill with a bow earned him respect whenever necessary, as he shot targets from a great distance and with great precision alike.

**Clever Fellow Kliff:** Kliff, true to his word, departed from Valentia shortly after Alm and Clair’s wedding. His son found his way back into the lands to pledge service to Alm, though the fact he came with a copy of Kliff’s newest tome of magical studies makes the motive of the gesture unclear.

**Confident Lass Delthea:** Delthea followed Kliff, and was presumably the subject of his studies and the mother of his children. Her feelings on the matter were quite clear in the forewords of Kliff’s tomes, describing her joy in helping Kliff write them, and the fact his son described  _ many _ siblings.

**Arrogant Scholar Luthier:** Luthier took Kliff’s first tome as inspiration to go on his own journey, claiming that he wanted to visit the locations Kliff mentioned. He eventually returned, clamming up in his study and refused to talk about the sights he saw.

**Crafty Mercenary Jesse:** Jesse organised the mercenaries throughout Rigel and Zofia, and created a fief of the One Kingdom dedicated entirely to the mercenary profession. They soon developed a reputation that allowed them to do business beyond Valentia’s borders.

**Devout Priestess Silque:** Silque stayed at Jesse’s side, though the two never wed. Her attempts to bring religion to Jesse’s fief bore no fruit, owing to the fact she couldn’t  _ quite _ figure out how to make money the object of formal worship. She did, however, make quite the name for herself as the fief’s treasurer.

**Guile Archer Leon:** Inspired by legend, Leon became a wandering vigilante, trying out the idea of stealing from the rich corrupt and giving to the needy. It is often agreed that Leon gave  _ much _ more than he stole, and the question of which royal coffers he drew from was made the subject of much debate.

**Steadfast Sir Lukas:** Lukas found a new calling in politics, using his calm, collected demeanour to earn respect as he slowly began unravelling the pedestals on which his wartime obstacles stood. He often described the task of knocking down such nobles with his own brand of sadistic glee.

**Confident Commander Forsyth:** Forsyth took great pleasure in describing the feats performed during the war to young children- toned down to be appropriate for the age group, of course. The ‘daring acts of chivalry’ they performed inspired by those of Sir Alm brought him joy.

**Layabout Lackey Python:** Python retired from the army, and took up storytelling like Forsyth. His own brand of storytelling ramped  _ up _ the sexiness of the war, and was often told in bars over a tankard of beer. Although Forsyth was quick to denounce him, some of Python’s stories sound very much like Forsyth added his own distinctive flair…

**Royal Regent Mathilda:** Mathilda served as the informal queen of the Zofian territories. While Alm and Clair superceded her formally, Mathilda’s role was to act in their place in the lands furthest from Rigel Castle. Though many suitors stepped forward, she gave the nod to none.

**Proud Knight Zeke:** Zeke returned to Archanea following the imperial wedding, but true to his word, returned after a year and a day. He served as a knight of the Valentian court proudly, though he often bore a melancholy expression whenever his thoughts drifted to his life as Camus.

**Clumsy Priestess Tatiana:** Tatiana opened a local chapter of the Anthiesian faith, using Zeke as an example of a self-made man to lead the people of her village on their path. Her village was one that grew in size to become a major power in Valentia now that the Rigelians need not fear weekly monster attack.

**Motherly Sister Palla:** Palla returned to Archanea, and became a powerful knight in service to King Marth. She visited Valentia to show around her eventual husband, Abel, but did not stay long. She remained loyal to her roots, and allowed Abel to be the same.

**Rational Sister Catria:** Catria returned to Archanea, and became an accomplished knight in service to Minerva. She took to mercenary work across the continent of Archanea, and offered liasons with Jesse’s group as they offered their own aid. It is rumoured that she pines for another in silence.

**Eager Sister Est:** Est returned to Archanea, and settled her affairs before eventually departing. Although it pained Abel, he allowed himself to accept her refusal to marry him, and Est suggested she had no qualms about him moving on to Palla after her.

**Seductive Sorceress Sonya:** Sonya cleaned Nuibaba’s old lair of evil magics, and used the place as a base to study witches and how to reverse the spell’s effects. In between her spellwork, she acted as a doting mother to Genny, and the old mansion became a place of wonder- even if most people were afraid to make the climb.

**Valiant Defender Valbar:** Valbar joined Genny and Sonya on Fear Mountain apprehensively, but the joy he felt at having a family soon eclipsed that. Although he frequently left to serve stints in the army, he always returned, happy to give his fatherly love to his new family.

**Mercenary Adept Kamui:** Kamui lingered in Valentia for far longer than he hinted he would, but eventually, his time to move on came, and he was never recorded as returning to Valentia. However, rumoured sightings came from time to time, sparking curious comments about why he might have visited.

**Sweet Daughter Genny:** Genny remained in Sonya’s Fear Mountain abode, only leaving to visit her old friends from the priory. Her books became popular reads, while she herself got to live a life with people to dote on her. Some say she had a child- no one knows who either the father or the child actually  _ is _ .

**Masked Knight Conrad:** Conrad, after a fairly successful career as a guidance expert in Anthiesism, branched out and started a program to help people with anxiety speak up around others. As much as the people used it to help them win their love, Conrad himself never found himself wanting for a lover of his own.

**Experienced Pastor Nomah:** Nomah’s preachings helped bridge the gap between Mila’s faith and that of Celica’s, allowing the young to switch from one to the other seamlessly, while the elderly and devoted could adapt to the way Anthiesism changed the landscape.

**Tricky Mage Boey:** Boey joined the Whitewings on their return to Archanea. When he returned with Zeke and Linde, he described having fought in a great war there, and he and Linde pledged themselves to Celica’s cause. Celica felt bad about separating Linde from Archanea, but was startled to learn Linde didn’t miss the place.

**Hyper Priestess Mae:** Mae stood at Celica’s side always, and was quick to ensure that she had a shoulder to lean on and a laugh to be shared whenever she needed it- and several times when she didn’t. Her passiveness out and about gave the impression she was the demure one, but when they were alone, the roles reversed.

**Icon of Progress Celica:** Celica’s new religion Anthiesism was responsible for each new generation of Valentians adopting the ideals of their fallen gods. Celica watched each new obstacle overcome by a newly inspired people with all the pride of a mother.

**Warrior Empress Clair:** The reputation Clair would develop was decided when she fought off a Rigelian knight with designs on the throne in her wedding dress. The regularity in which Rigelians sought to remove her from the throne the way she claimed it paved the way for her to create a formal and nonlethal tournament in order to earn the crown. For the record, she never lost.

**Imperial Farmer Alm:** Alm helped the Rigelians find farmable land across the once unattended fields, teaching the locals the craft at each turn- and, to his surprise, the Zofians required the same teachings. The reign of Alm was spoken of as the dawn of a new prosperity.

_ And so the long war drew to a close. After countless sacrifices, at last, a new peace dawned in Valentia. Was it inexorable fate that saw this conflict erupt? No man or woman alive can say. Only one truth is clear: War will come again, when man grows proud and slothful once more, and its flames will devour one and all, raging until the very earth itself lies scorched and bare of life. For whatever madness lay in the hearts of gods… a darkness deeper still beats wild in the hearts of man… _


End file.
